The Jenova Virus
by claire sorrentino
Summary: Hojo had plans to perfect the T-virus using Jenova cells, but instead he brought Claire & STARS to the Planet. Along with an outbreak of zombies. Claire/Vincent. Rating changed to M to reflect Claire and Vincent's inability to behave :
1. Prolong

The Jenova Virus

Prologue

In a dingy apartment, a small group of fugitives huddled with the lights out. The place was threadbare. Besides a mangy mattress lying on a grimy floor there was a floral couch with cushions flat as pancakes. From the single window the flickering of dying lights managed to penetrate the several layers of dirt and grease that age baked onto the glass.

"Anyone have a clue where we are?" Jill Valentine muttered under her breath. "Besides being in a effing heap of trouble?"

Rebecca Chambers, a young biologist, shrugged. "The last thing I saw was a stream of green energy, and then bam!" She slapped her hands together. The sound reverberated off the walls, and she cringed. "Here we are," she said voice dropping several notches.

Leon S. Kennedy, the only male present, sighed. He was stationed near the window, situated at an angle that allowed him to see outside without being seen. "The police aren't like anything I've seen before. They're carrying the weirdest assortment of weapons . . ."

"Yeah," Jill said. "Swords, staffs, and guns. Can anyone say 'World of Warcroft?'"

"Ha ha," Leon muttered. His brow furrowed. "They're looking for us. I think we need sometime more concrete than a video game explanation."

Rebecca shivered. "All the same, does anyone know anything about Warcroft or whatever?"

Leon didn't answer. He closed his blue eyes, taking a deep breath. Outside, with the strange "police" was one of the Umbrella scientists that had caused gotten them into this mess in the first place.

The man was gibbering in a nasally stream of jabber, hands flapping in the perfect angry-scientist impersonation of a penguin. In spite of the distance between them, Leon could have swore the ponytailed man shouted Claire's name in particular.

Knowing that an Umbrella scientist was looking for Claire did weird things to Leon. He knew how the young woman felt about him – it was kind of hard not to. But for his part, he just couldn't decide how he felt about her. At first he'd thought he just needed more time to be sure of his feelings, but the longer he had to stew about it, the less certain he was. And what about Ada?

He glanced at Claire, who was lying on the floor, her eyes closed. She was breathing shallowly, chest rising and falling with obvious pain. Rebecca had assured him that she would wake up and be fine, but he still worried.

His gaze traveled back outside to the angry scientist. They were fairly incompetent, and had completely missed the fact that their quarry was within sight. Instead of making a careful search grid, they were giving up now. The scientist was hopping mad, but slowly they dragged him off as well.

Very slowly. The whole bad-guy-leaving process took well over two hours.

Hours later a quiet moan caught everyone's attention. Moving away from the window, Leon knelt down beside a redhaired girl wearing cut-off shorts and a tank top. "Claire?"

The girl in question moaned again, blinking her eyes open. "L-leon?"

"Yeah, it's me." He brushed her hair away from her face. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a tyrant sat on me." She reached one hand down, feeling her ribs. Pain was pulsing in a dull throb from where she'd hit the wall. Well, actually she'd been _thrown_ into the wall by a Bandersnatch, but that was beside the point. "I thought I was dead."

She saw a flash of dark blue as Jill moved to the window. "You would have been if Becca hadn't patched you up." Without looking, the brunette added, "And if Kennedy and I hadn't shot to kill."

Claire nodded. "Thanks, Jill. I owe you one." She looked up into Leon's eyes, wanting to express gratitude to him, but his expression was distant. "Ada?" she asked. She tried to keep the hint of bitterness out of her voice, but wasn't sure how successful she was.

Ada Wong and Leon had a relationship. It wasn't love or hate or anything in between. It just was. Leon couldn't help being attracted to the mercenary, and for her part, Ada couldn't help but get mushy around Leon. On more than one occasion, they had abandoned their principals in order to be with the other. Even now, just thinking about her, Leon appeared to have forgotten about Claire completely.

Not one to appreciate getting ignored by a man she had a crush on, Claire struggled to a sitting position in spite of the pain. "So . . . are we surrounded?"

Rebecca shrugged. "More or less." Even though Rebecca was a year younger than Claire, she seemed to be pretty good at reading moods. "Leon had to abandon Ada to rescue you."

Claire rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Great."

"Just because you don't like her doesn't mean she's a bad person," Jill said from the window. "And before you start, I don't want to hear you and Kennedy argue over her merits." She turned merciless brown eyes onto Claire. "Ada Wong has great legs, perky breasts, an exotic face, superior fighting skills, and a hint of a conscience. The first are things that all men value. The last is something that Kennedy can't resist. He's the type of guy that wants to change the bad girl into a good one."

"Hey," Leon objected. He stood up, walking over to Jill with a mock scowl on his face. "Don't make me out to be so superficial." He grinned, the smile melting Claire's insides. He was so damn sexy and casual. She squeezed her eyes shut, listening to him banter with Jill about exactly what Ada meant to him.

Rebecca joined in after a few moments. "So . . . ah, considering that I have chicken legs and a flat chest, what do I have going for me?"

Claire didn't wait to hear what Leon's response was. She was feeling depressed and sore, and felt like a little fresh air would clear her mood out. Then she'd be able to join in with the teasing, letting all the little wounds of love scab over.

So without a word to the others, she slipped out.


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the reviews and faves. To answer a question, yes, Sephiroth will be in this and yes, Wesker will be. But I'm not sure about whether they're going to fight yet.

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Chapter One

The building appeared to be abandoned. The hallway had holes in the floor. Faint sunlight trickled through holes in the roof, accenting the dust floating in the air. Claire stepped carefully. The last thing she needed was to fall two stories because of weakened floorboards.

There were signs of old violence. Holes from gunshots and dried brown stains that looked like bleeding bodies had slumped against the walls. When she reached the stairs, she saw the first skeleton lying sprawled at the bottom. The footprints of her friends showed they'd stopped to examine the old corpse before moving upstairs.

If they'd felt comfortable enough to stay with the dead, it probably meant the dead was staying dead. All the same, she drew her handgun and trained it on the yellowing skull until she was well past it.

Then she was outside. The city streets looked like a catastrophe had struck. Rubble from collapsed buildings cluttered the road. Buried here and there were the smashed remnants of weird looking cars and riffraff. Claire followed the trail her friends' made for a couple of blocks. Then without any indication of where it had come from, it vanished.

That must have been when they appeared here. She sat on a large piece of rubble, and looked up, straining to see the whorl of light that both Leon and Jill claimed had vanished from the sky shortly after they fell. As the two of them explained it, they had rescued her from Umbrella, but the building was on a countdown to self-destruct. When the timer hit zero, they were embraced by a green stream of light, which yanked them like an undertow away from the burning building and dropped them here.

And they hadn't been alone. One of the Umbrella scientists had landed as well. Jill described him has an older man with a man's ponytail and a nasally voice. He'd crowed something about "at last" and then scrammed before anyone thought to blast him to hell.

If Claire had been conscious, she would have shot him in the head until she was out of ammo. From the description, she knew he was Dr. Hojo. He'd been one of the key inventors behind the T-virus. Which made every gruesome death caused by the virus _his fault._

And to think he'd wanted to _breed _her. She shivered, remembering his greasy hands on her body. There hadn't been any sexual desire in the madman, just a lust for power. Jenova. That was the virus he was trying to create. Mentally, she shortened it to the J-virus.

From what she'd killed at his lab, the virus created super-fast zombies that had . . . extra abilities. She'd been caught when one had somehow generated fire around her. Real fire. She'd screamed, feeling her skin burn, and rather than curling up and dying, she'd opened fire on the thing, nailing it with five bullets in the vicinity of its eyes. When it fell, the flames vanished and her skin was only lightly burned.

Then one of the zombies had grabbed her in a bear hug from behind. She'd screamed, and it bit her neck before she could struggle loose. And struggling loose was almost impossible. A normal zombie started falling apart immediately, but even then it had unnatural strength. These J-virus zombies were stronger. She managed to get loose with a tie-your-shoe throw that Chris taught her. Then while it was re-orientating, she's pumped the rest of her clip into its head. Because a single shot wasn't enough to put one of them down.

The wound on her neck had green slime around it. In a bathroom, she'd watched the slime _ooze into the open wound._ She'd quickly soaped and watered the remaining gunk, but even as she did it, the wound closed, leaving not a mark.

She could feel the gunk inside of her though.

Hours later, she finally hit the main underground labs (there had been two subbasement labs to deal with first). Hojo shot her with a stun gun. She woke up strapped to an operating table. Hojo heh-hummed about how her immune system was remarkable for not succumbing to the Jenova cells, and that as a result, he felt she was perfect to use for his breeding experiment.

And now here she was. In the ruins of some long-forgotten city. She pressed one hand to her stomach, wondering if he'd been successful with his experiment. Then she heard the sound of people. She scuttled into the shadows of a building, watching as a couple of men in dark blue suits rounded the corner.

The taller of the two was immaculate. He had a bald head and Wesker-type glasses. The shorter man swaggered, his dress shirt untucked and more or less unbuttoned. The taller man was carrying a body. "Ya know Rude, I could get used to this gig, you know," the redhaired man said. "But then they send us to Midgar to pick up maggots like Pavo there." He shook his head. "What kind of weirdoes hang out in Midgar anyway? It just don't make sense. This place is a ghost town, and –"

"Reno."

"So we get here and we get the guy, and sure enough, he's got the boss's materia. And we whack him. But we can't just leave the body here because of Cloud so we have to lug him over rock and rubble while dealing –"

"Reno."

"With all sorts of surprise attacks from the wildlife. And then, by the time we get done with ditching the body, happy hour will be over and we'll have to pay full price for our drinks. This is Elena's fault –"

"Reno!" Rude threw the body down. "I can't carry him anymore."

"What? Come on, you're kidding me, right? That guy's twice your size. How do you expect me to carry him?"

Rude shook his head. "I don't care." He rotated his shoulders and tightened his tie. "I just need a long break."

"Long breaks are not an option. Once dark hits this place will be crawling with . . ." He launched into a description of an array of things Claire had never even heard of. The entire time he was yammering, he was strolling in a widening circle, swinging what looked like a baton.

Claire moved further into the shadows, trying to keep quiet. They looked like a couple of gangsters. She'd dated a gangster once. It hadn't been the best breakup, and she'd learned to be leery of hired guns ever since.

"And then you have to deal with," Reno said, abruptly stopping and turning directly toward where Claire was hiding, "Rats."

"Rats," Claire muttered. She stepped into view. "Fine, you caught me," she said. "What do you want?"

Reno grinned. "It would be bad form to just leave you here."

She flirted with several possible interpretations of what he was saying and decided that he meant he was going to eliminate the witness to his crime. Nevermind that she didn't know who he killed, why he killed him, or what his reasons were. Of course, she wasn't going to go with the obvious. Fighting zombies was one thing, but fighting humans was another. She didn't have the stomach to head-shot a living, breathing human.

"Thank you so much," she said. She made a show of holstering her gun, and then hugged Reno. "I thought I was going to be stuck out here with the wolves." She brushed her hair away from her face. "My idiot boyfriend got spooked and took off. Without me."

"Ah . . ."

She pulled loose from him. "Claire Redfield. I promise I won't be any trouble. I would have said something when I first saw you, but I thought you were going to attack me." She pulled a face. "But since you're giving me a lift to town, I guess I can help you with the deadbeat." She jerked her head to the body. "There's a crevice big enough to drop him in and deep enough that nobody will be going down looking."

She headed toward the body. Reno and Rude just stared. That was okay with Claire. Better that they stared than attacked her. "Come on," she said, focusing her attention on Rude. "If you get his arms, I'll grab his legs and it'll go faster."

Rude's eyebrows came together, and she imagined that behind the shades his eyes were narrowed. Then he shrugged. "Rude," he said. He offered a hand, which Claire shook. His hand completely engulfed hers, and when he applied pressure she knew that fighting him would have been a very, very bad idea. He was strong as a zombie and not nearly as smelly and creepy.

Twenty minutes later, they sent the unfortunate body on a one-way trip down. Claire felt a pang of regret, but reminded herself that, seeing as he was already dead, there wasn't much she could do to help him. She had to worry about herself.

With the two men she left the city. Stretching out as far as she could see was rough rocks and barren land. Reno hopped into the back of a blue pickup truck, and helped her up. "So, which town you heading to?"

"Any one's fine," she said. "Besides Midgar." She settled down beside him. "I don't really have anywhere in particular to go. Since the boyfriend ran off." She thought about Leon, Jill, and Rebecca, and silently apologized for being the one who ran off. Hopefully they would figure out what had happened.

"You got a job?" Reno asked.

Rude made a weird noise under his breath, and got into the driver's seat. Without a word he put it into gear. And they roared away from Midgar.


	3. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: Thanks for reading, reviewing, faveing, and enjoying

Chapter Two – two weeks later

Claire adjusted her dress and then checked her reflection in the mirror. Besides the fact she was wearing a hooped skirt and a bodice, she felt pretty good about herself.

"Tell me one more time where we are," Rebecca asked from the bed. She was still wearing her dirty Umbrella battle uniform. After a couple of weeks, Claire had managed to get back to Midgar and pick up her friends.

"The town of Kalm."

"And Kalm is where?" Leon asked. He was sitting on the trunk that passed for a dresser in her motel room.

"East of Midgar," Claire said. "And before you ask _again_, both cities are on a planet called The Planet. We're not in Kansas anymore."

"We weren't in Kansas in the first place," Jill said, stepped from the bathroom with an itsy-bitsy towel wrapped around her body. "But the better question is what happened. Any clues?" She sat down on the bed, motioning Rebecca toward the shower. With one hand she started toweling her hair dry.

Claire shrugged. "We teleported with the Umbrella scientist. It was his bolt hole and we got lucky enough to get dragged along."

"You'd think that it would be a more controlled . . . portal," Leon said.

Claire rolled her eyes. "Umbrella doesn't excel at control." She started applying lipstick.

Jill stood up, adjusting her towel for maximum coverage. "Tell me more about this job you got."

"I'm working as a waitress at the bar," Claire said. "Not much more to tell." Actually there was. When Reno had proposed the job, she'd initially balked. Gangsters didn't make good work partners. But as it became clear that they were on a different world, it became equally clear that she needed resources for food and shelter and, eventually, ammunition to take out Hojo. If she had to work in a less than savory job, then so be it.

She was really nothing more than a glorified informant. She would take messages for the Turks, spy on the people they wanted spied on, and pass on the information she learned. So far she'd learned that the Turks were like gangsters after the mob-boss had a change of heart. That made it less bad, but her friends didn't know she was working for the mob. They'd disapprove. Or at least Leon would, and what Leon thought mattered a lot to Claire.

She explained the normal bar duties she had, and explained that she got room and board as part of her compensation. "You'll all need to get jobs too."

"Doing what?" Rebecca asked. "I'm a biologist."

"They deal in science and magic on this world," Claire said. "I'm sure you could do something in your line of work. Maybe with the WRO."

"The world police, right," Jill said. "Makes me think of Team America . . ."

"Or we could try something freelance," Leon said. "I think we should see how things work before we tie ourselves down to firmly anywhere." He locked eyes with Claire.

"Hey," she said. "I can cut ties here anytime." It wasn't exactly the truth, but she figured he didn't need to know that now. Police officers were funny about the mob. She knew that for a fact. Chris had been pissed with her for dating Jonny the mobster.

"Good," he said. "Have fun at work. We'll finish getting cleaned up and then take a look around."

Claire smiled. "All right."

Near the end of her shift, one of the keep-tabs-on-guy's came in. Cloud Strife. He looked like his picture, with spiky blond hair and surreal blue eyes. His skin was flawless, and just like Reno had promised, the guy was wearing purple and toting a sword taller than Claire across his back. He was with a lively group of mismatched individuals: a large white animated toy, a short bouncy girl shaped like a twig, a sensuous brunette with a rack to rival Jill's, a barrel shaped black man with a gun grafted onto his arm, a wolf-lion creature with feathers in his mane, an older man with a cigarette stuck in his mouth, and a man with deathly pale skin and a mop of black hair falling around his face.

Claire took her time approaching their table. None of them paid her any attention. Except the man in red. His eyes locked onto her immediately. His face didn't betray his thoughts. He was simply watching her. His eyes were red. As soon as the fact sank in, she stopped walking, and simply gazed into his eyes.

They were beautiful and scary, and she almost thought she could see something moving behind them – inside them. Something animalistic and chaotic. It sent a shiver down her spine, and she let out of soft gasp, lips parting. Without meaning to, she started walking toward him.

He hadn't sat down with the others, and as she got closer, she realized he was actually quite tall. He was dressed in black; his clothes had a number of straps that made the get-up look sexy and uncomfortable at the same time. On his right thigh was a gun-holster that housed a large gun. On his left hand was a gold gauntlet that ended in claw like fingers. And he was wearing pointy shoes – as in the kind that could puncture a skull if kicked.

She came to a stop a few inches away from him, gazing up, into his eyes like a hypnotized child.

Then Cloud was beside the man. He clapped him on the back lightly. "Vincent, sit down," he said, voice soft and chiding. He turned his blue eyes to Claire, offering a half-smile. "Sorry about Vincent. He's not the most social."

Claire swallowed, suddenly back in the reality of the bar. While she'd been looking at Vincent, all noise had vanished. Hell, Wesker could have walked in the room stark naked with a gun and a hula-hoop and she wouldn't have noticed. She blinked several times and shook her head. "Ahh . . . that's all right," she said. She licked her lips, directly her attention to the group. "So, do you all need menus or is it just drinks tonight?"

"Menus," the twig girl said.

"Drinks," the cigarette guy said.

"I don't exactly eat or drink," the stuffed animal said, bouncing up and down. He sounded Irish.

"Eh . . ." Claire said.

"Reeve, why aren't you here in person?" the brunette asked. "I mean, we get together so infrequently . . . and then you have to come in your cait suit."

"Well, I got caught up at work, and couldn't get out of Edge. So here I am instead." He bounced a bit, and then deflated. "Sorry if I'm a disappointment, Tifa."

"No, not at all," she said quickly. "We're glad to have you."

Claire forced her attention away from the conversation and back to Cloud. He was taller than she was too, although not as tall as Vincent (who she didn't dare look at again for fear she'd get sucked into the vortex of his eyes. It wasn't like she hadn't seen attractive men before; it was that there was something else about him.)

Of course, there was something else about Cloud too . . . "I'll get those menus," she said. "In the meantime, does anyone want anything to drink now?"

The twig and the cigarette both placed their orders, and she scurried away. When she returned, the twig snagged all the menus, declared herself a master thief, and distributed them to her friends. Cloud and Tifa ordered drinks along with the black man (whose name was Barrett according to the twig's endless chatter).

Vincent caught her arm just as she was leaving. "I'll just have water," he said. His voice sent another shiver down Claire's spine. It was perfect. Low and deep, it had an almost rusty quality to it, as if he didn't speak much.

"Right," she said. She risked a glance at his face and found him staring at her, studying her unabashedly. She bit her lip, looking away. But couldn't force herself to move away while he was still touching her. After a minute, the twig seemed to see the two of them caught in limbo.

"Yo Vincent!" she shrieked. His fingers, which had been resting lightly on Claire's arms, tightened, hinting at his strength. The twig bounded over the table and launched herself into his arms, causing him to stagger a few feet back. "Don't ya just love me!" She planted a large and sloppy kiss on his mouth, and Claire felt a worm of . . . jealously thrash through her stomach.

She hurried to the bar, placing the drink orders with the bartender. While she waited for him to get them ready, she tried to quell her nerves. This Vincent guy wasn't anything to her. She tried to pull up her mental image of Leon, but couldn't quite fixate on his features. Then the drinks were on the tray in front of her.

Claire drew in a deep breath. _Think of it like Umbrella then_. _If you get distracted, you get killed. Think of that man like a Tyrant. Dangerous and hypnotic._ Her lips quirked into a small smile. But not vomit inducing. Armed with fresh resolve, she headed back to the table, reminding herself that she still had to spy on Cloud for the Turks.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Life was hell. That's all there was too it. The group was boisterous, and Vincent was hypnotic. Every time Claire so much as glanced at him, she felt the lure of his presence. And she didn't like it. Not one little bit. She had never been the type to fall mindlessly for someone – that had always been Chris's department. She was the practical Redfield who only fell in lust or love with reasons. Vincent hadn't given her any reasons.

She pressed her hands over her mouth, exhaling through her nose. She was seated at the bar, positioned so she should see if anyone needed anything. Hopefully she just looked like a waitress at the end of her shift on a dead night. Tired, but attentive. And certainly not eavesdropping.

Not that they had anything worth spying on them for. Apparently Cloud was a delivery boy. A delivery boy! And it didn't sound like his deliveries were on the low-low either. It sounded genuine. Even if it had been something more dramatic, his meeting was nothing more than a happy get-together with his friends. They laughed and chattered and generally had fun.

It actually made Claire nostalgic for her pre-Umbrella days. She smiled at that thought, remembering a long night at the bar followed by karaoke in the streets. No gun. No zombies. Just a perfect evening getting sloshed.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the door open. A smallish man with a sweaty face stumbled in. He had shifty dark eyes and a twitchy face. His arms were crossed over his rumpled suit. He dropped into a corner booth, motioning for her to approach.

But at that moment, her relief popped in. Shelby was a pretty young woman, and her green eyes swept the bar, lingering on Cloud. "I'll take over, sweety," she said to Claire with a wink. She grabbed a bottle, and headed straight toward Cloud.

Coming to a stop, she leaned forward, displaying her assets. "Hey sweetheart, can I get cha a refill?"

Cloud nodded slightly, holding up his glass. Claire watched her pour the amber liquor. She glanced at the others briefly to see how they were reacting to the change in staff, and found that Vincent was watching her.

_Oh hell that's sexy . . . er . . . eerie,_ Claire thought. She forced her gaze back to the sweaty, twitchy man. He'd planted his face in the table, arms stretched out in front of him. Then he stood. It was like watching a puppet rise, as if someone had pulled a string in the middle of his back, jerking him to his feet. His arms rose at the same time.

Claire felt dread only distantly. She didn't have her gun – she'd loaned it to Rebecca (who'd lost hers). She glanced around the room, fast, taking in anything that could be used as a weapon. Her eyes caught red. Vincent. Then traveled down to his holstered gun. Her approach must have seemed normal. After all, she'd been doing this weird near-and-far from Vincent dance since he'd arrived.

As she got closer, Tifa laughed. "I think she likes you, Vincent," she teased. "You should ask her to dance."

Then Claire was beside him, taking his gun. It was heavy, but she hardly noticed. She turned, aiming at the zombie. It was making decent time toward her. She looked it in the eyes – making sure of the milky film covering them. Dead. Another life lost to Umbrella.

She pulled the trigger. The recoil sent her arm into the air. She felt cold, clawed metal on her bare skin, and then a leathered hand plucked the too heavy weapon from her fingers. Claire didn't care. She'd gotten a perfect head shot. And there wasn't much left to the head.

She exhaled. "Disaterific," she muttered. She strolled to the body, but only got a few feet.

Cloud stepped into her path, sword naked in his palm. "Care to explain yourself?"

Claire ran her hands through her hair. "What's to explain? That I just shot someone? And you want to know why?"

"That would be start," the bouncy stuffed animal said – Reeve, if she remembered correctly. "It is a crime to kill people."

Claire closed her eyes. "It is a crime to kill people," she agreed. "But that wasn't a person."

"It looked like a person to me," Yuffie said. She'd gotten the world's biggest shuriken from _somewhere_ and was glaring daggers at Claire.

Actually, she had a feeling the whole lot of them were glaring daggers, and Claire remembered something Reno had said about Cloud. He'd said that Cloud was a "decent enough" guy, but he had a tendency to "meddle." She gritted her teeth. "Call the police if you want. I did the right thing." She stepped past Cloud, moving toward the body.

Reaching it, she knelt down and gently rolled the corpse over. Checking the pockets, she found what she was looking for. An Umbrella issued identification card. She stood extra fast, spinning to face the group. They'd spread out to cover all exits – as if she was going to run away.

"Shelby, do you recognize this symbol?" she asked, pointing at the Umbrella logo on the card.

Shelby moved back, hiding behind Cloud. "Please protect me," she whimpered.

Claire felt the fear pouring off the girl, and irritation stabbed through her. She was not – could not – would not ever be the type of person who could hurt others on a whim. Hell, she could hardly stand the thought of going after the Umbrella scientist who created the T-virus. She felt tears threaten. Not close to falling, but just misting over her eyes. Her tongue felt suddenly heavy. "Do any of you know what this symbol is?"

Tifa raised her arm.

Claire turned toward her, expecting an answer. Instead a feeling of exhaustion swept through her body through. She felt as if she'd been up for days, months, years. Her eyelids felt heavy, eyes burned with the need for sleep. Her head felt too heavy for her neck. She felt herself falling forward, but her body refused to respond. At the last second, she saw a flash of red as Vincent Valentine moved toward her. "What the hell?" she whispered.

Then she was asleep.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Demon. Claire dreamed of a demon with leathery red wings, and golden eyes. It smelled masculine. Reached one clawed hand toward her. It – no, his – mouth opened. "Chaos," he said. A light grew in his chest, expanding outward with a purple-black darkness. The voice was familiar, and sent a shiver through Claire's entire being. "I want him too. Hojo," the familiar voice said. She blinked, and his features appeared to morph closer to a human form.

Then she was spinning away from the demon, the sensation of floating in nothing fading. It was replaced with the normal jostle of being carried. Every fiber in her body balked, wanting to take instant flight, but she forced herself to stay calm.

She heard Reeve. "It jes goes to show that some people can be cold-blooded killers and ya never even know. But we've got a nice cell at the WRO for people like her."

"Back when ShinRa ran things, girls like her would just work for the Turks," Barrett said with a snort.

"The Turks weren't always hired thugs and cold-blooded killers," the man holding her said. Claire recognized his perfect voice. Vincent. Her entire body tensed, and she felt his grip on her tighten in return.

She let a small moan escape her lips, and turned into his body, acting like she was just disconcerted by a nightmare. With her face pressed into his chest, she raised her arms, holding him as if he were her pillow. "No more . . ." she moaned, and then forced her breathing to even off. It was her best fake sleep ever.

Vincent's grip loosened.

"Hey!" she heard someone shout. Leon. Internally Claire groaned. It was bad enough she was under arrest. "What are you doing with Claire?"

"She's under arrest," Reeve said. "For murder."

Claire imagined the look on Leon's face. If he got dragged into things because of her there would be less of a chance that Umbrella would be stopped. She sat upright, snaking her arms up so she was holding Vincent tight. "It was a zombie," she said. "From Umbrella."

Leon looked like he was still going to take some kind of action.

So Claire did the next best thing. She slipped out of Vincent's arms, snagging his gun in the process and taking off at a dead run. It was luck, she knew, but on the other hand it was skill too. People never held on to the stuff right in their arms if said stuff (her in this case) was holding on to them. Vincent wasn't an exception. As soon as she'd held him, he'd stopped _holding_ her.

She heard pursuit, but ignored it. Outside the tavern was a decent looking motorcycle, and that's what she took. She fired it up, and peeled out of town.

The bike was low in the front, and heavy, but the faster she went the less the weight mattered. The wind bit at her eyes, sand blasting up. The terrain was gritty outside of town, but within a few moments she hit the main road. She put on a burst of speed, heading west. Once or twice she tried to check for pursuit, but the bike really was too big for her and it wobble so she couldn't see properly. So she kept her body facing forward and prayed there weren't any potholes up ahead.

She stopped when her body couldn't take riding the bike anymore. It was certainly a big boy's bike. She dismounted, working out the kinks in her shoulders. She was on the edge of a mountain range, and able to hid the bike from the main road behind a couple of boulders. Then she sat down, wiping grit from her face.

For several long minutes she just rested. Then some ground-hog thing popped out of the ground and threw a lump of hard dirt at her. "Hey!" she protested. "Stop that."

The gopher-thing didn't listen. Just threw a harder piece that hit her in the head with a significant amount of force. She lifted her hand, feeling a growing goose-egg. "What the hell?" she muttered. Then remember what Reno had said about monsters roaming the country side. She eyed the gopher again. It was cute. How could that be a monster? It ducked into its hole and emerged with a jagged rock.

That was how.

Claire lifted Vincent's gun and shot the gopher. The recoil and weight were more noticeable when shooting a gopher as opposed to a zombie. She lowered the weapon, examining it. There were three barrels, and the clip looked like it loaded three bullets at once. There was a dangling charm and a glowing orb slotted in the side of the weapon. "Interesting," she muttered.

She counted the bullets, and decided that avoiding the gophers was probably better than shooting them. Which meant she had to get to civilization of some kind. She mounted the bike again and headed down the road until a sign directed her that the nearest town was six miles away.

She got to the outskirts, and then was _tackled_ off the bike.

She screamed, a loud panicked noise, and struggled. Her attacker pinned her almost effortlessly. He was a lot stronger. Once she was completely pinned, she looked up, eyes showing too much white. She honestly expected to see a tyrant (what else would knock someone off a speeding motorcycle?) but instead she found herself looking into Vincent's red eyes.

"Oh thank goodness," she breathed. "I thought you were a Tyrant." She gave a shaky laugh, tension escaping her body.

"Tyrant?" Vincent asked, raising an eyebrow.

Claire wiggled a bit. "T-virus created monster."

"I'm no monster," he said, standing and hauling her to her feet. He retrieved his gun from her. "Come on."

"Aren't you afraid I'll take off?"

Vincent paused. "There's nowhere for you to run anymore. You're unarmed and this town doesn't have anything for you to steal for your escape." He paused, eyes lingering on Cloud's bike. It had turned off upon crash, and Claire could hear the sound of the engine cooling. "We'll take Cloud's bike to Edge."

Claire scratched the back of her head. "Where's Edge? Is that where the prison is?"

Vincent didn't answer.

"How did you find me?" Claire asked, trotting after him. She reached one hand toward his, and then froze when he turned to look at her.

"Unlucky."

She licked her lips, mouth dry at his look. "You guys simply staked out every possible road, didn't you," Claire said. She shook her head. "And you get to be the one to find me. I guess that explains why I was drawn here."

"Oh?"

She brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "You're . . ." She grimaced, at a loss for words. Although, now that she was thinking about it, he had tackled her off a speeding motorcycle. At the very least he was different in a dangerous way.

"I'm what?"

Claire shook her head. She wasn't going to answer that question. She walked toward him, and then past him. The edge of the town seemed dark. She reached the road. Vincent caught up, longer legs allowing him to match her pace effortlessly.

"You will be incarcerated by the WRO."

"That man was already dead."

"So am I."

Claire stopped walking. "Are you an Umbrella experiment?" she asked, fearful of the answer but striving for nonchalance.

"Hardly." He lifted his gun and shot several bat creatures that swung out of the darkness. Then smoothly reloaded the weapon.

"Well, that's good," she said. She stopped at Cloud's bike, and then reached to haul it up. If this was Cloud's bike, she had to reevaluate how tough he was too. Because he hadn't looked like he'd been struggling to drive for hours before entering the tavern.

The bike popped a side compartment open. The metal whacked into her fingers, causing her to exclaim in surprise.

Vincent calmly shut the compartment, and hoisted the bike to a standing position. He checked a few gauges, and then grunted, tapping a dial repeatedly.

"Gas gauge?" Claire asked. The dial had been low to begin with, but the longer she been driving the lower it had gotten.

Vincent nodded, the motion very, very slight. He motioned her to walk to the town.

"You know, this is the weirdest arrest I've ever had."

"Meaning?"

"You're not tying me up or warning me not to run or anything like that. Hell, you haven't even read me my rights."

"Rights?"

"Lawyer, the right to be silent . . . and all that other stuff."

"You may be silent."

Claire paused, cocking her head to the side. "You don't like people talking, do you?" He rolled his eyes. Claire was sure of it. But the motion was so slight it was like he hadn't done anything. It made Claire smile. "You know," she said. "I can respect you wanting silence and no mindless chatter."

"Thank you."

"But . . . this isn't mindless chatter. This is important." She stopped walking, resting her hands on her hips. "I don't know you and I don't know what your limits are."

"I have none."

Claire shook her head. "Not what I meant."

"You want to know how observant I am. How likely I am to stop you from escaping again." He strolled up to her, tilting her chin up so she was looking into his face. "You will never escape me again."

His words made Claire's heart hiccup. "Fine. Let's just get some gas and go to Edge." She walked past him.

They reached the streets without a word. Claire glanced around, noting the silence. "So, tell me, what time is it?"

"Time?"

"Yeah . . ." her voice trailed off. She could hear the shuffling of feet, and out of the corners and crevices, bodies were starting to move. "Hey Vincent . . ."

He grunted a response.

"Do you see those things moving?"

"Yes."

She sniffed the air, catching the faint odor of death. "We're getting surrounded."

"I noticed."

"Did you notice what was surrounding us?" Claire asked, struggling for calm. She didn't have a gun and Vincent probably wouldn't shoot the dead townspeople.

"Zombies."

"You . . . ah . . . believe in zombies?"

"Of course."

Claire was silent for a very long time. "And you got upset when I shot one?"

"There wasn't enough left to determine if he was dead before you shot him," Vincent said after a long moment. He drew a gun from a hidden holster and handed it to her. "It's a Griffin . . . lighter than the Cerberus, but still pretty –"

"Heavy," Claire agreed, lifting the weapon and experimentally sighting down the barrel. "But it's a good weight."

"It reloads faster," Vincent said. "And can shoot more rounds per second."

Claire nodded, no longer in the mood for conversation – pleasant or otherwise. The zombies were coming in full swing. Vincent grabbed Claire and jumped onto the hood of a car, and then boosted her onto a roof. She stood up, and shot a zombie jumping toward Vincent. It fell backward with a neat hole in its forehead that was oozing green. Then it stood and started after them again. She shot it twice more and it stayed down.

"J-virus," she said. "You'll need more than one shot to take them out."

Vincent glanced at her. He appeared to have leapt onto the roof without any assistance at all. "J-virus?"

"Like the T-virus, only stronger."

"T-virus?"

"It kills people and reanimates them as zombies. If you get bitten, you get the virus."

Vincent nodded. "I see." He started moving. He was good; Claire had to admit that. He led her across the roofs until the zombie hoard below was going the wrong way. Then he headed back to where Cloud's bike was at a rapid pace. He leapt off the roof, shooting as he went down. Ten zombies hit the ground, permanently dead, before he landed.

"Jump. I'll catch you."

Claire jumped, and, true to his word, he caught her. Within seconds they were at Cloud's bike. Vincent righted it, mounting. "Let's go," he repeated.

Claire froze. "There might be survivors. We should help them."

"There are no survivors."

"How do you know?"

"Instinct."

Claire lifted her chin slightly. "Then we . . ." her voice trailed off. "Well, I suppose you don't have to do anything. But I have to end it for these people." She turned, shooting the closest zombie in the head. It went down and stayed down. Apparently only some of them had the T-virus. "I'll need to borrow your gun a bit longer." She licked her lips. "And I need you to deliver a message for me in case something goes wrong."

"I'm not a delivery boy. That's Cloud."

"Tell Leon – he's the guy from Kalm – that I might have the J-virus. Tell him that stands for the Jenova virus and that Hojo is probably releasing the virus –"

Vincent seized her, spinning her around, eyes blazing with passion and fury. "Hojo?" Cloud's bike fell over, making a loud crash and the side compartment popped open again. "Jenova?" Vincent demanded, eyes burning.

"Yes. Now tell him." She pushed at him, but Vincent didn't budge. "Hojo. Professor Hojo from ShinRa?"

"No. Hojo-the-hobo from Umbrella."

"Umbrella?"

"The logo I tried to show Shelby. That's Umbrella."

"That's a new health company," Vincent said. "They're based near the ruins of the Temple of the Ancients."

"Tell Leon that too," she said. At least they had a target now.

"You tell him. I'll take care of the zombies," Vincent said. He pushed her toward the bike.

"You tell him," Claire said. "I know what I'm doing here. You don't."

Vincent looked at her, expression unfathomable. "I shoot to kill. I can handle this."

"Together then," Claire said. "You me and hell of a lot of chaos."

Something flashed behind his eyes, and she felt a tightening in her stomach. And a burning low in her body. Then he blinked and the expression was gone. "Fine," he said. And together they entered the town of the dead.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Claire realized several things very quickly. Vincent was an impossibly sharp shooter. Every shot went where he wanted. It didn't matter if he was walking, running, jumping, falling, or saving her butt from a too-close zombie. When he took aim, the zombie got hit. In the head.

Once she realized that, she dropped to a complete support role without a word. She covered, picking off the zombies that got through his spray of bullets. After several minutes, she felt confident enough in reading his shots that she never shot at his target. Or maybe he was just that good at reading her.

Once zombies stopped coming at them in the streets, Vincent moved them into the first house. They went through it systematically, shooting each zombie that crawled and moaned toward them. The whole town, Claire realized, was fairly small. There were five or six modest cottage-sized homes. An inn and tavern. A small grocer. A weapons shop. A materia shop. And an apothecary with potions and anointments.

Roughly 60 people dead because of Umbrella. In the tavern she found the source of the spill. A very dead man with an Umbrella logo on his jacket. Around him were broken vials. Claire stared at the spilled virus for a long time.

"Burn it," she said finally. "We have to burn the city to the ground."

"No. Not us," Vincent said. He pulled a phone from somewhere, and dialed a number. "Reeve. There's been a viral outbreak in Stocth. The town needs to be burned to the ground. All the residents are dead." He paused, listening. "Turned into zombies." Another pause. "Yes, I found her." His eyes met Claire's. "No. I'm keeping her."

Claire choked, mouth opening in protest. _Keeping her? What was she? His new pet?_

Vincent hung up his phone. "Let's go."

"Go?"

"To the Umbrella pharmacy."

Claire swore under her breath. "What about this place?"

"Reeve will take care of it." He loaded his gun, then took the Griffin from her and reloaded it before handing it back to her. (He'd loaded her gun twice during the fight, simply plucking the weapon from her fingers and remedying the low-no ammo problem).

"I –"

He holstered his Cerberus, and glanced toward the sky. It was brightening with the first blush of dawn. "Listen –"

"No. You listen. I have to –"

Vincent picked her up, movement swift and unexpected. He carried her as if she were a new bride, motions gentle but firm. She could hear his metal shoes striking the cobbled streets, could feel the cool warmth from his body, and the hardness of his metal claw against her body. Then he was at Cloud's bike. Without putting her down, he kicked the side-compartment closed. Then dropped her onto the bike while raising it up.

"Impressive," Claire said, in spite of herself. He swung onto the bike, and she swung off at the same time.

Vincent opened his mouth, and Claire had the pleasure of seeing him realize that he didn't know who she was. Then his eyes narrowed, and it was almost like she could see him playing back every second he'd ever spent with her. "Claire . . ." he said finally.

Her name on his lips. Perfect. It made her heart stop beating and her brain shut off, a complete victim to lust.

Her face must have gotten really blank when her brain shut off though. Vincent cocked his head to the side. "That was what your friend, Leon, called you. Is that not your name?"

Claire swallowed. "Well –"

"Is your name Claire?" Vincent interrupted.

Hearing him saying her name had approximately the same effect as the first time, and Claire decided it wouldn't be a good idea for him to call her that. "Redfield," she said. "You can call me Redfield."

"Surname?"

"Oh yeah," she said. "I don't want you calling me Claire."

He frowned. "Then you'll call me Valentine."

"Yeah right," she said. "I have a friend named Jill Valentine, and I won't call you Valentine. I'll call you Vincent."

Vincent shifted on bike, expression unreadable. "Then I'm calling you –"

Claire launched forward, slapping a hand over his mouth. "You'll do no such thing," she said, eyes sparkling with fear and desire.

Vincent moved – one of his lightning fast motions that left Claire's eyes seeing a trail of red. He caught her around the waist, pulling her forward until she was lying across his lap. Then he fired the bike up and floored it.

Claire screamed, certain that her head and feet were too close to the ground. "Vincent, you bastard! You tricked me! You _deceived_ me!"

He laughed. She could just feel the vibrations in his body.

"Oooooh! Don't you laugh at me!" she shrieked, volume stolen by the wind. She clung to his leg, praying she wouldn't fall, and furious at herself for getting caught.

Then Vincent grabbed her, somehow swinging her behind him. "Hold on," he ordered.

Claire debated refusing, but he hit a small bump and she feared she'd go flying off the back. So she grabbed him, tight, pressing her body against his back, and burying her face in his cape. At least she didn't have to taste flying dirt.

And his cape, in spite of the tattered and dirty appearance, was actually soft and silken and seemed pretty clean. For several minutes she muttered angry curses into his back, but then the steady thrum of the bike and the blur of scenery started to work its magic.

She'd worked a full shift at the bar before Cloud and his crew turned up. Then she'd had her miniature fiasco with the zombie. Her flight on Cloud's wicked-cool-but-hard-to-handle bike. Then the elimination of a town's zombies.

Her arms, currently clinging to Vincent, were sore from driving the bike and wielding a man's gun. She wiggled a bit, adjusting her grip on Vincent and closing her eyes for a second. It must have been longer than that though because all of a sudden she was jerking awake, realizing that her grip had slackened to the point where a good bump dislodged her. Falling, she didn't have even have time to scream.

Then Vincent caught her, somehow keeping her from landing face first on the hard concrete of the road. But her head was still very close to the ground, one of his hands wrapped around her waist.

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the bike come to a stop. Vincent didn't shut it off. As soon as it stopped, he pulled her back onto the bike. Slowly she opened her eyes, fully aware that she was more or less sitting in his lap. Her eyes traveled from his chest to his face, finally coming to a rest on his eyes. A blush crept up her body, flushing her face with a mottled red.

Vincent brushed some hair out of her face. "Tired?"

She bit her bottom lip, nodding a little.

"Try and stay awake a little longer. We'll stop at the next town."

"Okay," Claire said, still to mortified to say more.

Vincent adjusted his grip on her, using his clawed hand to support her position on his lap. Then he started speeding again.

Claire, wanting to never get that close to falling of a bike again, wrapped her arms around him. Holding on as tight as she dared. The blush coloring her cheeks refused to go down. _How f*cking humiliating,_ she thought. _And in front of Vincent of all people._ It was even worse than doing something stupid in front of Leon. Leon would have let her escape with a "you're just not that experienced" type line. But Vincent didn't know what kind of experience she had. And while she couldn't possibly impress him after that, she still wished that she could go back in time and make him realize that she could handle herself on a bike.


	7. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** So, yeah, I had to change the rating to M because Claire and Vincent refused to have a nice normal relationship. The next chapter is written and . . . probably needs to be edited back for their lovemaking, but that's a fight for another day.

**Warning:** contains strong references to sex that only appears to be nonconsensual - seriously, Vincent would never rape anyone in this story. He's got a plan, which is explained in the next chapter.

**Chapter Six**

The Planet specialized in lovely, low key villages. The first indication of civilization was a smattering of cottages along the sea shore. Each home had decent yard and a white picket fence, and the streets were paved with hand-placed yellow bricks. A sign proclaimed it the village of Oz. Vincent parked outside the inn, and lifted Claire off the bike.

She coughed into her fist. "I can walk."

He looked at her, and for a second Claire thought he was going to refuse to let her. Then he grunted, dropping her legs abruptly. As soon as her feet touched the ground, he walked away, red cape fluttering in a gentle sea breeze.

Claire glanced at Cloud's bike, silently debating just taking off on him.

"I have the key," Vincent said without turning, without pausing. He cocked his head to the side. "Claire."

She flew to his side, swatting him in the butt. "I told you not to call me that, _Vincent_."

He opened the door and motioned her in without a word. Inside a couple of villagers were excitedly talking about some Lifestream Festival. "We need a room," Vincent said.

"With two beds," Claire added. There was no way she was going to even think about being alone with Vincent and a single bed.

One of the girls nodded. "Two thousand gil a night."

Claire's eyes grew really round. "Are you kidding me?"

Vincent set the money down without a word. Apparently he didn't think it was an outrageous price gouge. He didn't let Claire protest more either. Just took the room key, and ascended the stairs.

Shaking her head, Claire followed him up, thankful that his cape prevented her from ogling his bottom. Their room was on the top floor. Vincent opened the door and stepped to the side, letting Claire enter first.

The room was beautiful, and, Claire decided, probably worth at least 500 a night. It had wall to floor windows that opened onto a white stone balcony facing the water. In the center of the room was a large shell shaped bed with sea blue pillows and down-feather blankets. She rushed forward, opening the window and popping onto the balcony.

"Nice," she whispered. From where she was standing she could practically taste the salty air. The breeze felt clean and soothing – much better than the gritty wind that had assaulted her on Cloud's bike. And the sunshine was perfect too. In fact, it'd been too long since she'd been in such a peaceful scene. She felt the longing for normalcy start to build. What if Umbrella had never created zombies? Would she be married and living in a cozy little village like this? A bitter smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. The answer was probably not. If it hadn't been for Umbrella she'd be cussing her absent love-life, working too hard to make ends meet, and thinking that life was too hard.

She sighed, pulling away from the view. Back in the room, she spotted Vincent. He was standing in the doorway, eyes locked onto her, expression unfathomable. She walked across the room, opening first the closet and then the bathroom door. Ignoring him, she stepped in and tried to lock the door only to discover there was no lock.

She popped her head back out, noting that Vincent hadn't moved. "I'm gonna take a shower. Stay out."

Vincent tilted his head in something resembling a nod.

Claire's eyes narrowed, but she left it at that. Twenty minutes later she was almost squeaky clean. The inn's soaps were all top of the line; they were like silk on her skin. She found a shell-themed comb, and brushed her hair until it was semi-dry. She pulled on her panties and hooked her bra, then reached for her bar maid's outfit only to notice the blood and dirt staining it.

Which made her check the bra and panties. Unfortunately there was blood on the bra. She took it off, dropping it into the tub in disgust. After scrubbing it for several minutes with soap and water, she hung it up to dry and then turned to her dress. Once it was as clean as possible, she hung it up to dry, and then started to walk into the bedroom.

She opened the door, saw Vincent start to turn to look, remembered she was topless, and slammed the door shut.

"Dammit," she hissed. "What kind of an idiot am I?" She checked the bra and dress, but they were really too wet for comfort. She swore again and then wrapped a towel around herself. "You better keep your eyes to yourself," she muttered. "Because if you don't, I'll . . ." She let her voice trail off and stepped into the room.

Vincent glanced at her. Then he looked away, almost as if completely dismissive. Claire felt a stab of irritation, and wanted to make some demand as to exactly what she was missing. But she couldn't force the words out.

Then Vincent looked back. Slowly. Then he stood, walking toward her. Claire found herself looking up to see his face.

"Cl-"

Her body tightened in anticipation. "Please . . ." she whispered. "I can't stand you saying it."

"It?" He touched one leather gloved hand to her bare shoulder.

Claire stepped back, wiggling away from his hand. "Just don't say my name, okay?"

His eyes narrowed. "And if I want to?"

Claire forced herself to breathe normally. "You seem like the strong silent type," she said. "Just tough it out in silence." She headed toward the bed, and then realized that it was _the bed._ No her bed. Not his bed. THE bed. As in only one. As in the clerk had charged them 2,000 for the equivalent of a honeymoon suite.

At first she could just stare in mute shock. Then anger started to bubble up, moving from somewhere deep inside and building until her limbs started to tremble. How much was it to ask to just get a break now and again? Ever since Raccoon City, she'd had one disaster after another. And a lot of them were worse than getting overcharged for a motel room. But here she was, struggling to resist whatever pull she felt for Vincent Valentine. Here she was, nearly naked because of Umbrella. Here she was, on a different planet, totally separated from her former life. Separated from her family. And now, since she'd shot a stupid zombie before Cloud's cronies noticed it was a zombie . . . Now she was separated from her friends. And from the rookie police officer/secret agent that loved a dumb-ass, two-timing, mold-brained Ada Wong.

She gritted her teeth, hearing them grinding. Without meaning to, she dropped her hands to her sides, fists clenched so hard that the knuckles were white. The spot on her neck where the Jenova zombie bit her started to throb. She could feel tendrils of something snaking through her body. That was another f***ing problem. She was probably going to turn into a zombie. And then –

Vincent touched her shoulders. He didn't say anything.

Claire tensed at his touch, ready to spin and scream at him. Or better yet. Ready to spin, draw a gun and shoot him dead. Then she wouldn't have to worry about one bed in a stupid town. In fact, it'd probably be a good idea to just get the f**k out of town. Leave all the crazy, stupid people alone. Go to Hojo and tear –

Vincent pulled her back until she was leaning against his body. Then snaked his arms around her, drawing her closer. He leaned down until his lips were beside her ear. "I'm sorry," he whispered, voice rough as sandpaper. "I'll sleep outside."

Part of Claire, the angry part, felt a surge of triumph. She'd hurt him somehow. Put a sorrow into his voice. The rest of her deflated, melted into his embrace. And as her anger faded, something replaced it. Fear.

She didn't think like that. Ever. Those hadn't been normal Claire thoughts.

She could feel the tendrils of the virus retreating, pulling into a tight knit ball on her throat, pulsing under the surface. She reached one hand to the spot, touching it gingerly. The skin was lava-hot, and she could feel something other than blood writhing beneath the surface.

"V-vincent," she croaked. He started to pull away from her, and Claire grabbed him with both hand, keeping him from letting go. "I think . . . I'm infected, and that I'm turning. Right now. I need you to do me a favor."

"Ask."

"I need you to promise first," she said. "And then if you can't do it, tell me."

"What would be the point? If I could back out when I wanted, you might as well tell me first."

"I need you to tie me up. Very tightly. And gag me with duct tape or something like that. Then I need you to watch me, and when I turn, I need you to kill . . . " Her voice trailed off. She couldn't quite bring herself to finish the sentence.

"How does this infection work?"

"I'm not sure, but I felt it just now. She tilted her head to the side. "I got bit on the neck, and it leaked green goop for a while. Then it healed over. I thought something weird was up, but after a couple of days with no side effects, I figured I was safe."

Vincent touched the spot on her neck. "It seems fine to me."

"It is fine now," she said. "But when I got angry, it started to take over me. I couldn't even think straight anymore."

"Okay," Vincent said. "I'll tie you up on the bed." He lifted her up. "And gag you with . . ." He dropped her onto the bed. "And if you turn, I'll kill you."

Claire breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks."

Vincent grunted in response, and turned away, looking around the room.

"Hey . . . what are you going to tie me up with?"

"Leather straps."

Claire cocked her head to the side. "Where will you get those from?"

"Cloud's bike. He sometimes has to secure packages." Vincent opened the door, and almost looked back at her. "Wait here." Then he was gone. Less than a minute later he returned with black leather straps.

Claire, having remembered her toplessness, had retrieved her wet clothes and put them on. If she was going to be a zombie, she wasn't going to be a naked one. Vincent didn't comment on her change or about her moving after he told her to wait.

Instead he crawled onto the bed, catching one of her wrists in a firm grip and leading it to the headboard. He tightened the leather straps until her arm was securely tied. Then he grabbed the other one and tied it to the headboard as well.

"What about my feet?" Claire asked. "Will you tie them together?"

Vincent shook his head slightly. "No. I prefer you to have some ability to struggle."

"Huh?"

In response, Vincent tied a gag into her mouth. "That way you can't bite."

Claire's eyes widened a bit. She wanted to say something like "_Wait a minute. What are we doing exactly?"_ But Vincent had effectively silenced her.

She closed her eyes, deciding that the plan was just the plan. If she turned into a Jenova-zombie, he'd kill her and that would be the end of it. Besides, she was really tired. She took a couple of slow breaths, letting the first wave of sleep wash over her.

She was almost out when Vincent's clawed hand slipped under her skirt, and hooked her panties. The metal was cold, and her eyes snapped open. Then he pulled back, cutting the fabric. A couple slices later, he reached his gloved hand under her skirt and pulled the tattered panties away from her body.


	8. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** Okay. Sorry it took so long, but this took me forever to censor so I wouldn't get in trouble. I think it is clean enough for now.

WARNING - sexual contact, don't like, don't read.

**Chapter Seven**

Heat pulse through Claire, followed by a moment of irritation, followed by the first slithers of anger. Then Vincent lowered his head, moving it up and under her skirt. Claire struggled to a sitting position, inching away from him. But he grabbed her legs in a powerful grip and pulled her straight. At the same time, he lowered his mouth. At the same time, he removed his leather glove, baring pale, long fingers.

_Oooh!_ Claire thought. _What the hell does he think he's doing?_ She tried to screw up fury and anger that he would be taking advantage of her like this, but she was too lustful to do more than wiggle her legs in helpless protest.

Vincent pulled back, red eyes lingering on her. Then slowly he began to strip. It wasn't a proper seductive strip. It was just Vincent taking off his clothes. Of course, even regular 'taking-off-clothes' tended to be sexy when the guy in question wore black leather. He dropped his cloak, undid several buckles and within a few, long minutes, he was naked.

And Claire hadn't seen any underwear. Interesting.

Vincent had a sexy body, pale and muscular, laced with old, faded scars. After he was naked, he proceeded to strip her. And then totally and completely seduce her. Every movement was precise, careful and no doubt well thought out. And well short of what Claire really wanted, which was the whole thing.

Claire growled through her gag. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy Vincent gently kissing her neck, sucking at the tender skin, biting . . . It wasn't that she didn't love the feel of his long finger, caressing her body intimately. It was that she wanted more, and he just didn't seem inclined to give it to her.

He was hard and ready physically, but mentally he appeared to be restrained. She watched his red eyes, noting the hunger behind them. _He wanted this as much as she did, so why the hell was he holding back?_

She wiggled back from him, trying to get closer to the headboard. If she could just get the straps loose, maybe . . .

Vincent slipped a finger into her, distracting her.

She shot him a venomous glare that melted when she saw his face. Lips parted, eyes full of desire. His entire body seemed to tremble with barely suppressed . . .

Well, barely suppressed something. She just couldn't figure it out. And who the hell cared what he was suppressing? It wasn't _fair_ for him to be suppressing. She returned to her struggles with the leather straps pinning her arms over her head.

Not that it did much good. Apparently Vincent was an expert at tying people up. She angrily mused that at one point in his life he must have been a professional kidnapper. When her wrists and arms and shoulder refused to take anymore struggling, she collapsed back to the bed, and he laughed at her.

A soft chuckle that slipped unbidden past his lips. Lips that were tantalizingly close to her body. The sound reverberated inside Claire, igniting her desire even more. Why did she always want the stupid guys who were _incapable _of giving her what she wanted?

Here she was, on her back, practically at Vincent's mercy. He was over her, face inches from hers now, breath warm on her skin. Hands on either side of her head. Body _ready for her_. And he was just straddling. Wasn't moving his closer to her.

So Claire did the only thing she could think of. She took advantage. If he wasn't going to come to her, she was going to him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling her hips up.

And then, with a little bit of luck, she got him inside of her. Finally.

It hurt a little, but she was ready enough that he slide in easily. He gasped, maybe more startled than she was at her success.

His eyes looked at her with a mixture of outright lust and horror.

Lust, she could deal with. The horror was more troubling. She debated pushing the issue, wiggling her hips to more firmly fit him inside. But she couldn't. Here she'd been thinking he just wasn't man enough to take the last step with a girl tied up. Now maybe it was something more.

Maybe he was playing her. Trying to get her to react a certain way from some stupid, nefarious purpose. She unentangled her legs, lowering her hips to the bed, disappointment rushing through her.

But Vincent followed her down, bumping his hips against her, pushing himself the rest of the way in. He collapsed all of his weight against her, burying his face in her neck. She could hear him, breathing quickening, swearing softly, then louder. Then he snarled.

And something happened. A blast of light, a heat extending through his cool body like fire.

He whispered her name, more like a curse than anything.

Claire wanted to shoot back a childish _you started it_, but the gag prevented her. Any his weight on her body was preventing her from moving either. Then she noticed something. Vincent had . . . wings.

As the realization dawned on her, Vincent reach a _clawed _hand toward the headboard, and ripped the leather straps restraining her. His weight still effectively pinned her to the bed, but at least now she could move her hands.

She drew them down slowly, resting them on his lower back and then curving them up, fingers lightly caressing his skin until she came to the spot where – yes, he had wings, and yes they were really attached to his body.

By that time he worked the gag loose from her mouth. He tossed it aside, and drew a hand across her eyes. At the same moment he pulled back from her and laid a soft, strange kiss against her lips. "I'm sorry, Claire," he whispered.

Claire knew what was next. He was going to take off, leaving her naked, penniless, and alone in a weird city.

She held on to him. Licking her lips. "Don't be sorry." Her voice came out almost bitter. "I want this." She actually wasn't sure what she wanted, and maybe that uncertainty crept into her voice.

Vincent pulled his hand away from her eyes, sitting up at the same time. He was still inside her so when he shifted abruptly it caused her to moan. The pleasure probably wasn't the response he was expecting. Nor her unwilling cry of 'yes.' But that was probably for the best.

He looked different than before. His hair was more jagged and defined. His face paler, almost a death white-blue. His eyes were yellow, chaos dancing on the surface. His teeth were also pointy. In fact, he looked like the demon from her dream.

"Umbrella?" she asked, hesitantly.

He cocked his head to the side. "Hojo."

Sympathy flooded her, followed by a surge of triumph. "Nice," she said. "It's good to know that when they f***ed with you, you don't lose your mind."

Vincent closed his eyes, and transformed back to his regular, human form. "Interesting choice of words."

She reached up in response, running her fingers across his face. "Do you want to do this?" She flexed her hips so there wouldn't be any misconceptions about what 'this' was.

Vincent looked pained for a second. Then nodded.

"Then let's just do it," she said. "I want you too."

Something seemed to break on his face. A little piece of Vincent that he held back from everyone came forward. Claire didn't know what triggered it. But he kissed her. Deep, tongue slipping into her mouth with a sudden renewed fever. And she kissed him back, abandoning fear and doubt for what would happen after.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Some one night stands ended quietly. Others badly. A few actually turn out okay – as in both the guy and the girl go their separate ways, well-sated, pleased, and enjoying the memory. Claire figured that _if _she and Vincent had had a one night stand it would have been the last kind. The kind that made for good memories.

But of course, in order to be a one-night stand a few things had to happen. One, it had to be at night. They'd had their fling mid-morning. Two it had to be, well one. After it was over, both were supposed to go their separate ways. Instead, she was rudely awakened by Vincent sometime after dark.

He silently handed her a bag. "Clothes."

"Heh?" She blinked sleep encrusted eyes at him, noting from the faint lighting that he was completely dressed. She rubbed her face. Blinked some more.

Vincent proceeded to take a slip of red out of the bag, followed by a pair of billowy pants. "For you to wear," he said.

Claire eyed the clothes suspiciously. "Really?"

He nodded, turning away. "We have to keep moving. We've wasted enough time."

Claire picked up the top. It looked like a red bra with an off the shoulder look. "Yeah, and we hate _wasting_ time," she said, tossing a barb of sarcasm into the statement. She put the top on, half-expecting it to slip and fall off. But it didn't. Somehow the thing clung to her breasts, giving them support without a real bra, and somehow not falling in spite of the fact that the straps were on her arms rather than her shoulders.

She glanced at Vincent, and noted that he was standing on the balcony.

"Quiet bugger," she muttered. She found a pair of plain red underwear at the bottom of the bag. She pulled them on, half expecting them to fit like granny panties. Instead they were a silky-cotton and hugged her buns rather well. She sighed and proceeded to pull on the pants. They were almost sheer, tight at the waist and cinched at her ankles. She checked herself out in the mirror, expecting to see a fashion disaster. Instead, she sort of looked like a red-haired Jasmine.

Before Umbrella, she would have appreciated out the outfit more. "I'm not going to like fighting in this," she said.

Vincent glanced back, ducking his head so his mouth was hidden by his cape. "Sorry. It's all that was available." He strolled up to her. Paused.

Claire knew what was going to happen next. He was going to walk by her. But she wasn't in the mood to be left, so she started out the door.

After a second, Vincent followed.

Outside the Lifestream festival was in full swing. Claire hopped onto Cloud's bike.

"Driving?" Vincent asked.

She shot him a smile. "I can't handle this beast alone for about as long as absolutely necessary. And I could probably handle it with you riding shotgun if the need came up. But I would **never** volunteer." She patted the side of the bike. "It's a good bike, but it isn't for girls."

A panel popped open in agreement.

Claire grinned. She was expecting that from the bike by now. "What's in these compartments anyway?" She ran her hand over a variety of handles. "Do they make the bike go faster or something? Maybe turn into an airplane?"

Vincent laughed. "No. Nothing like that." He grabbed one of the handles, and pulled, and it came free. "Just a sword."

Claire's eyes widened. "A sword?"

"Seven, actually," a soft voice said from somewhere in the darkness. Claire spun around on the bike, and spotted Cloud in his purple get-up walking toward them. He pulled a sword from a holster on his back, and slipped it into a slot on the bike. The compartment closed.

"Cloud," Vincent said. He handed the sword to the blond ex-SOLDIER.

"Vincent." Cloud stuck the sword into the ground, half leaning on it. "So. I caught up at last." He stole a brief glance at Claire. "You're in some trouble, you know."

Claire shrugged. "It had to be done."

"Then you'll understand if I have to bring you in."

"We're actually going somewhere," Vincent said. "I called Reeve –"

"Not like that," Cloud said. "If you say she's fine, I'll believe you. We're more concerned with what she can tell us. We're having outbreaks all over the Planet."

"The J-virus?"

"Jenova," Cloud said. "And we have reason to believe that you've been infected."

Claire took a deep breath. "So quarantine."

"Yeah."

She slipped off his bike, walking toward him.

"Dr. Shaului will take a look at you. See if we can't fix the problem."

Vincent snorted. "Cloud, she isn't going to be an experiment and she doesn't need to be in no damn quarantine."

Cloud raised an eyebrow. "Then where does she need to be?"

"With me."

Claire figured she was more surprised than Cloud by the statement, but it was close. Of course, when Vincent swung onto the bike, pulling Claire after him and leaving Cloud in a, well, cloud of dust, Cloud was more shocked.

She wrapped her arms around Vincent. "Floor it," she whispered. "Get us the hell out of here."

They drove all night, and as morning neared, they neared another small town. This one had some massive apparatus jutting into the sky. "Rocket Town," Vincent explained. "Let me do the talking."

"Since you're so good at it," Claire said. They roared the bike up to a small cottage with a fenced in yard.

"No one's ever accused me of that before."

"I doubt that they would," she said. She got off the biked, dusting herself. Surprisingly the outfit traveled well and still looked vibrant in spite of the dirt and wind. Vincent looked a bit worse for wear though. His hair, probably a perpetual mess, was in a greater tangle than normal.

He pushed open the gate, sweeping through. Claire, looking around the town, spotted a familiar duo entering what looked like a bar. When she looked back, Vincent was holding the gate for her.

"Is there some reason I shouldn't be talking?"

He coughed. "I don't want Cid to get the wrong idea about you."

Cid the Cigarette. He'd been at the bar. "Maybe I should just wait out here."

Vincent hesitated, then nodded. "I won't be too long." He opened the door to the house without knocking and walked in. Claire caught an earful of cussing and swearing about people just barging into a man's home. Then something about why Vincent hadn't announced himself sooner. Then the door was closed.

She lingered for a moment or two, wondering what Vincent would say about her. Then she hurried to the bar.

Inside it didn't take long to spot Reno and Rude. They were at the bar, a couple of pints in front of each. Reno was hollering about some assignment up north and how he was going to freeze his dick off if he had to piss . . .

Claire made a face. Then approached. "Hey."

"Scam," Reno said without looking. "I ain't the type that picks up ditzy girls in bars."

"Cool. Cuz' I ain't a ditz and I don't want to get picked up by you. I just thought I'd report in briefly and explain why I'm not in Kalm anymore."

Reno spun on his chair, grin spreading across his face. "Claire."

Rude adjusted his glasses, and continued drowning himself in cheap beer.

"What brings you here?"

"Cloud's bike."

"Cloud's . . . bike?" Reno repeated.

"Yeah, I stole it."

"You . . . stole it?"

"Yeah. But I'm traveling with Vincent Valentine right now –"

"With . . . Vincent?"

"Yeah. We ditched Cloud at some small town Lifestream Festival."

"You . . . ditched Cloud?"

"Yeah. We had to. Vincent and I are going to Umbrella's headquarters."

"You're . . . going with Vincent?"

"Yes," Claire said, starting to get exasperated. "Umbrella is turning people into zombies."

"Zombies?"

"Yeah, zombies." She stuck her hands into the air and moaned. "You know, walking dead."

"I know what a zombie is," Reno snapped, pushing her hands down. "But what do you know about them? And who's Umbrella?"

"New health company with a red and white logo . . ."

"Bella Health – we'll make you feel better? Those guys?"

"Yep. Their product turns you into a zombie."

Rude spit his beer out. "What? I use their head polish."

Claire and Reno stared at him for a moment. "No comment," they said at the same time. Then turned back to each other. Claire briefly sketched what she knew, and ended with, "I thought the Turks might want to know. You said your goals are to make the Planet a better place, and it would definitely be better without Umbrella."

"Yeah," Reno agreed. He nudged Rude who was cleaning his head with beer. "Dude, if you haven't turned into a zombie yet, you're probably not going to."

"Right," Claire stood up, thinking about her own infection. Maybe it was just slow-acting.

Reno stood at the same time.

"I got to get back to Vincent before he notices I'm gone."

"Too late," Reno said, pointing to the door. "Don't tell him about us."

Claire seen Vincent coming through the door, followed by Cid. She glanced back, about to ask Reno exactly what she should say, but both had scuttled away with record speed.

"There you are," Vincent said. "I thought you were going to wait."

"I thought I'd get a drink," she said.

"No time," Cid said. "Cloud will probably be here any minute."

"How? He's got no car? Or bike . . ."

"He's probably borrowing one," Cid said. "And anyway, you'll want to travel during the daylight hours. It's easier to navigate."

"Navigate?"

"Yep," Cid said. He motioned her out of the bar. She followed him back to his home, and noticed that a rusty blue truck was parked by Cloud's bike. And the bike looked like it had been locked down to prevent sudden escapes. There weren't any keys in the truck either.

"Gosh, he's fast," Claire muttered. "He must have been at our heels the whole time."

"Probably," Vincent muttered. "Will you distract him?"

Cid grumbled. "Why do I have to #(*&*^ talk to him?"

Vincent put an arm around Claire, drawing her close. "I'll fight him if I have to."

Cid grinned crookedly. "Why didn't'cha say so?" He threw his shoulders back. "She's by the water. But you better hurry. I won't be able to stall him long."

Vincent nodded. "Thanks."

Cid proceeded to the front door. Arriving he threw it out, and let out a long string of curses about people coming to visit while he was away and not getting any tea . . . The door closed.

Vincent proceeded to use his claw to slice the tires on the truck. As for Cloud's bike, he dropped something into the gas tank. Then grabbed Claire. "Run."

Run.

That was the last thing she expected, but they made a mad dash for the sea. Along the way, monsters popped out of nowhere. Sometimes they stayed and fought. Most times they kept running. The land was flat and visibility was great. After a while, she could see Cloud in the distance, either rushing after them or making mince meat out of the monster that gave up chasing them.

Then they were at the beach. Her breath was escaping her chest in thin gasps. She pushed harder, seeing at last their goal. A small bi-plane resting in the water. Vincent launched himself at it, shoving it into the water with inhuman strength. Claire added her human strength, pushing with all her might.

The plane entered deeper water. Vincent hopped in effortlessly and pulled her after him. He slipped into the pilot's seat, turning a key. The engine roared to life. The rotors started thrumming. Claire expected them to taxi forward and take off into the sky. Instead they broke away from the coast.

She glanced back, seeing Cloud shaking his head at the shore. They'd been very close to getting caught. She gave him a jaunty wave. He saluted her in return. "Will he follow us?"

"Maybe," Vincent said. He pulled himself out of the cockpit and onto the opposite wing. "This is the Tiny Bronco. It used to be a plane, but now it's a boat."

"That explains why we're not flying."

Vincent didn't answer, just stretched out, yawning. "I'm going to get some sleep. I programmed a course to the Temple of the Ancients. It should take a couple of days to get there."

"Fun," Claire said. She stretched out on her wing, staring up at the blue sky. "Until we get there."

"Agreed," Vincent said.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine – Rallying the Forces of Good

Leon S. Kennedy heard it from a friend who heard it from a friend who heard it from Yuffie who heard it from Reeve who told it to Cloud who told it to Cid, who told him that Vincent was in love with a girl named Claire Redfield.

And the two of them had apparently_ gone all the way_ in a sea side village during a festival, according to a friend of Yuffie's who had been passing the room and heard a woman call out Vincent's name.

He wasn't sure how he felt about that particular rumor. He was liking even less the rumors of zombies that were cropping up here and there. It was that idiot scientist, Hojo's fault. Leon was sure of it. He should have never let the moron escape. He should have sniped him when he was throwing his tizzy fit about losing Claire.

But it was a little too late for worrying about that. He opened the door to Claire's motel room, stepping in. Jill stood up. She'd traded in her blue tube top for a blue tank-top and a pair of go-go shorts. She had twin holsters strapped to her legs, a grenade belt, and a wicked looking sword across her back. "You find it, Kennedy?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Corporate HQ is by the old Temple of the Ancients. It'd take months to get there on foot or by normal means . . ."

"Tell me you've got a plan," Rebecca said. She was wearing what could only be described as a local frog suit. Leon doubted she knew how ridiculous she looked.

"We'll go by submarine and chocobo."

"You want me to travel by Big Bird?" Jill said, quirking an eyebrow. "Think again."

"Big Bird is yellow. This chocobo is black. And if you don't want to ride her, I will." Leon smiled (more or less bared his teeth). "Now let's get going."

Rebecca stuck a hand in the air. "Wait, how are we getting a sub?"

Jill patted her on the head. "My old profession."

"S.T.A.R.S.?"

"Thief," Leon said. He opened the door and headed out, Jill following, and Rebecca protesting.

Twenty-seven minutes and thirty-eight seconds later they had liberated a submarine from the docks. The person they stole it from was a busty brunette named Tifa. She swore that some guy named Cloud would get them for stealing his submarine and prize chocobo, Sakura.

Leon apologized again for a dirty fistfight, and made sure she was securely tied to the dock. Then he boarded the submarine and they took off, heading for the Temple of the Ancients. Thanks to Jill they were loaded for Tyrant – all of it stolen weaponry. But at least there was a chance they could save the world.

And hopefully when he found Claire, she wouldn't be in love with some guy named Vincent. That would really be a shame. Because he was almost sure that he loved her.

Cloud answered his phone on the first ring. "Tifa, Vincent spiked my bike. It'll take a couple of days to get it operational. I'll need you to pick me up in the sub by Rocket Town."

"Yeah, right," Tifa fumed. "Some jerks stole the sub and Sakura."

Cloud opened his mouth. Closed it. "What?" he finally asked.

"A guy in a brown jacket with a dorky hair cut and a frown like Vincent's," Tifa said. "Plus some girl in a frog suit and a wanna be Honey Bee Dancer."

"They stole my chocobo and my sub?"

"Yep," Tifa said. "And left me tied to the dock."

"Were you hurt?"

She was silent for a long time, and then sighed. "Only my pride. The guy – Kennedy – was actually really nice. He handcuffed me during the fight. Apologized and then took the keys. It's really pathetic though. I was a better fighter than him."

"I can't take the airship either. She's in for an overhaul."

"Bad timing, huh," Tifa said. "What about the Tiny Bronco? I know it's kind of slow, but it's better than walking or public transit."

"Vincent . . . took it."

"Ouch," Tifa said. "What will you do?"

"Fix my bike and head to the Chocobo Ranch," Cloud said after a long minute. "I'll have to ride Lightning."

"Okay," Tifa said. "I'll see if I can't get the guys together and find some way to get there."

"Yeah," Cloud said. "Good luck."

"You too."

He hung up without another word. He shot a dark look at Cid. "You know, this wouldn't be happening if you had just detained Vincent like I asked you to."

Cid shrugged. "The guy's in love."

"Maybe."

"Ain't no mebe about it."

Cloud started emptying the gas tank on his bike. "That girl is trouble though. If she's not careful she'll end up giving birth to the next Sephiroth. Then where will we be?"

"We'll be fine. She's with Vincent."

Cloud wasn't so sure. "From what I heard Hojo's only needs to touch her once for it to take effect. I for one don't want another Sephiroth loose."

"Me either. But she's with Vincent." Cid patted the younger blond on the back. "But on the safe side . . . maybe you better take Tifa's Lifeday present early."

"Present?"

"Yeah, it's a bike so she can go riding with you."

Cid led him to a shed and opened it. Inside was a sleeker, more feminine version of his bike. "How fast?"

"Fast as yours," Cid promised.

Cloud nodded, mounted the bike and floored it out of Rocket Town. Maybe if he was lucky he'd get to his Gold Chocobo before someone stole her too. It was getting to be a hell of a week.

Reno actually managed to stay quiet for once. Which was probably why they were able to spy on Cloud the whole time he was talking with Cid. After he left, Reno rolled onto his back. "If our Claire is in that kind of trouble, we've got to save her," he said.

"Yeah," Rude agreed, cracking his knuckles. "But the Temple isn't easy to get to. Last time we had the Airship."

"Helicopter's no good either," Reno muttered. It would run out of fuel before reaching the area.

"Can't take boat. At least not and get there with decent time."

Reno scratched his head. "Naw . . . but I got an idea." He snapped open his phone. "Yo, Elena. Wanna earn your stripes?"

"Stripes?"

"Racing stripes . . ."

"I'm listening."

Reno grinned, winking at Rude. "I need you to borrow Cloud's gold chocobo from the Stables and meet me in at the coast. Rude and I need to travel in style."

"If you think traveling on style on a big bird is . . ." Elena began.

"Hey, we don't have a lot of time. Get your egg head on it."

"Egg head?" she sputtered.

Reno hung up. Now that we got a ride, let's get to the departure point.

The two Turks got to their helicopter and flew toward their departure point.

Cloud arrived at the Chocobo stables only to be told that, sadly, someone had borrowed Lightning. "You're kidding me," he growled. "How the hell am I supposed to get to the Temple of the Ancients?"

Chocobo-Billy shrugged. "Don't know. But the girl took the chocobo east."

"Girl?"

Billy described Elena.

"A Turk? I'll bet it was Reno who put it up to her." He hurried outside, boarding Tifa's bike. It really was lighter than his, and almost seemed to fly over the ground. As he blasted toward the coast, he called Reno. Who answered, realized who it was, tried to play it cool, and failed when the kidnapped bird warked in the background.

"If you take her," Cloud threatened.

Reno hung up.

As Cloud neared the shore, he could see the Turks on his chocobo in the distance. They booked it ASAP, leaving their helicopter and Elena behind. Cloud was in such a hurry to catch up, that he didn't realize he was riding on water until he was.

He flipped Elena off, and continued after his precious Gold Chocobo, who happened to be heading directly toward the Temple of the Ancients. And it looked like he'd found a way there after all.

And so while Leon, Jill, and Rebecca peacefully made their way under water toward their destination, Cloud roared to the same place on a speeding, flying motorcycle-turned-jet-ski, Reno and Rude rode an irritated race-chocobo, and Claire and Vincent quietly made their way, getting to know one another a bit better and try and figure out exactly what kind of a relationship they were destined to have.

And tucked into his lab, Hojo had no idea who was coming for him.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Claire hopped off the Tiny Bronco and sloushed through the shallows until she reached a deserted beach. In the distance was a forest. "You know," she said, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "This planet sure does have a lot of plains punctuated by a lot of trees." Hands on her hips, she spun a slow survey, noting some semi-decent sized mountains. The terrain seemed pretty steady, and she doubted they would have anything really unique – like rainforests or deserts.

Or if they had them, she'd had not seen them yet.

Vincent leapt from the Bronco to the shore, landing lightly. But noisily. It was his pointy shoes' fault. It was hard to land ninja-quiet when wearing metal moccasins. He silently pulled out the Griffin, handing it to her. "I put an Anti-Gravity floater on it."

"What's that do?" she asked, fingers closing around the weapon. But as she took it, it became obvious. It made the gun lighter. She poked at the dangling charm. "How does it work?"

"Magic."

"Yeah, but how does it really work?" she mused. Her trip across the ocean was proof that she was on a different planet. On Earth she would have never even considered traveling from one continent to another on a broken airplane turned boat. Especially not for a trip taking more than a couple of days. Someone it had worked out. The plane had a ready supply of water – which didn't seem to run out no matter how much she drank. And Vincent never seemed to have a shortage of travel food (i.e. nasty military ration-type meals). Somehow she doubted the Turks ate travel rations, but then again, maybe they did.

Of course, she had suspended her disbelief, and allowed herself to simply enjoy the time alone with Vincent. She hadn't learned much about him – he was too much of a clam for that. But she had gotten used to the idea that she didn't mind a quiet and mysterious man. Once she figured out that he wasn't talkative, she even managed to out-silence him.

A day and a half into the journey – with her not making a peep – Vincent had asked about her love-life. It'd been an awkward moment for him. He rolled to a sitting position facing her, one leg extended, the other raised. Claire had blown him a kiss impulsively, and then directed her attention back to whatever daydream she'd been involved in.

"You weren't a virgin," Vincent had said.

Claire's head snapped around so face she heard tendons pop. "No kidding. I have had relationships before."

"But not now?" Vincent asked. He seemed deliberately uninterested in her response, so Claire knew he did care.

"Not now," she had agreed. She closed her eyes, Leon's face swimming into view. She sighed, thinking about how nice it would be if he really was her boyfriend. Then she wouldn't have to wonder about where she might end up with Vincent. She would be perfectly content to wonder what might have been, and devote her love to Leon.

"Who are you thinking of?"

"Leon . . ."

"Ex-boyfriend?"

Claire smiled wistfully. "No. But I'd like . . . him to notice me." She laughed softly. "I always end up falling for the guys who are either incapable of loving me, incapable of realizing they love me, or unwilling to love me like I love them." Another soft laugh. "Sad fact of life, I guess." She thought about all the creepy Umbrella guys who had expressed interest in her, and moaned. "And the really, creepy, sadistic guys."

Vincent sucked on his bottom lip, turning away.

Claire wondered what category he fit into. She didn't ask though. A good travel companion didn't push for details when in a confined space. Sometimes the details were unpleasant and percolated for the rest of the journey. (She'd learned that after reading Chris's sex journal before a ten-hour road trip . . .)

But now that they were on shore, she was willing to resume her questioning of Vincent, and that included a real answer to the question of how the Gravity Floater worked. She rotated her shoulders back. "So how does it really work?

Vincent gave her a weird look. "Magic."

"Magic? As in hocus pocus?"

"As in . . ." his voice trailed off. "Claire –"

"No, I don't believe in magic," she said. "Weird stuff, yes. Magic, no. And if you think zombies are magic, you'd better think again. They're created by a virus that animates dead flesh. That's science, not magic."

"Strange." Vincent started walking away, cape billowing.

Claire strolled after him, refusing to hurry. "How is it strange?"

Vincent didn't answer for a long time, and Claire didn't press him for an answer. The way she figured it, he was still trying to figure it out. After an hour of silence, she was about ready to offer her question, along with a reminder of the context. But Vincent stopped walking, turning to her, and fixing a level gaze. "I've never met someone who didn't believe in magic before."

"Never?"

"Lucrecia Crescent . . . the woman I love . . . was a scientist. She didn't believe in too much reliance on magic, but she believed in it. Her thesis was on Chaos. He rested a hand on his chest. Chaos is inside me now. The two of us are forever bound. I was killed by Hojo. Shot when I confronted him. He experimented on me. Transformed me into hideous monsters. But the final monster was Chaos, and with him came control. Well, with the protomateria. It wasn't science that saved my life . . . it was magic. And so, it's strange that you don't believe in magic." He stopped, eyeing her for a couple of seconds. Then he nodded, speech done.

Claire let him walk ahead of her while she tried to soak all of that in. She kept getting snagged on the first part. _The woman I love._ That figured. She always liked the guys who liked the girls who weren't Claire.

She pushed it aside. "Can you do magic?" she asked. "Besides transforming into . . . Chaos?"

"Of course."

"How?"

"With materia."

"Materia?"

Vincent stopped walking. "You have heard of it before, right?"

"Well, yeah," she said. "But I've never actually seen or used it."

"Back at the Tavern in Kalm Tifa cast a sleep spell on you," Vincent said. He snapped something free of his Cerberus and tossed it to her.

It was a red orb, almost completely filled with an internal red mist.

"That's a Fire Materia."

"It almost hot," she said. "How does it work?"

"Focus on Fire, and it will come," Vincent said. "Try it in the next fight."

"Kay," she said. They walked in near silence for a few more minutes before the next fight was upon them. It was a couple of little green men with hats and clubs.

Vincent opened fire, shooting one dead instantly. "Try Fire."

Claire hesitated. "But they're mini-people."

"They're goblins," Vincent corrected. He shot another one. And then turned around to face three more who had been trying to sneak up behind. "Just draw the Fire out. It's easy."

Claire frowned, but tried. Nothing happened. "Do I like have to clear my mind or something? Visualize a wall of fire?"

"No. Just Cast Fire."

"How?"

"Raise your arm and drop it," Vincent said. "When your hand falls, the fire will consume your foe."

"Right." Claire raised her arm, dropped it.

And nothing happened.

Well, that wasn't entirely sure. Vincent shot the remaining goblins before they could attack Claire or him.

"It didn't work" she said. "Maybe I can't do magic."

"Everyone can."

Claire punched him lightly in the arm. "Well, apparently I can't. And it's not like I've seen you do it either." She made to hand him the orb, but he shook his head. He pulled another one out, this one ice blue. In the next fight, he blasted ice around the monster, causing it to keel over permanently.

"Okay, you can do magic," Claire said. But no matter what she tried, she couldn't get the Fire Materia to work in the four hour march to the first significant landmark. By now they were at the edge of an inverted triangle hole.

"This is where the Temple of the Ancients used to be," Vincent said. "Cloud gave the Black Materia to Sephiroth for the first time here, and Aerith decided to go to the Forgotten City to pray for Holy."

"Sounds like it was a real . . . blast." She eyed the hole skeptically, trying to determine exactly how the thing had gotten blown up so that it would leave such a neat hole . . .

"Sephiroth killed Aerith, but not before she summoned Holy. But his power allowed him to block the message to the Planet, so we continued on, eventually battling him in the Northern Crater." Vincent smiled without humor. "It was there where Cloud and Tifa were repeatedly turned into frogs and everyone wanted my ribbon."

"Is that a joke?"

"No. Which reminds me. Watch out for the Touch Me's."

"O~kay," she said.

They continued on. "We've got to be getting close now," Claire said. They'd reached a small clearing and her legs were starting to hurt. Not to mention the fact that her stomach was empty and the bite-mark on her neck was starting to throb. She was worried about the hunger . . . but too nervous to tell Vincent about it.

"It should be about a mile away," Vincent said. He glanced at her, expression softening for a second. If Claire didn't know about Lucretcia she would have thought he looked lovingly at her. "We should stop and rest before breaking in. It will be an intense fight."

"Right," Claire said.

So they set up camp, ready to wait out the rapidly falling darkness – at least until the dead of night, which is when they would sneak in, find Hojo and eliminate him forever. Hopefully.

Vincent built a small fire and pulled cooking supplies from _somewhere_. Claire looked around the clearing, mind wandering. When all of a sudden she saw a strange frog. It was about the size of a water-bottle and brilliant green. It hopped toward her until it was a scant two feet away. Then it stood up on its hind legs and seemed to look right at her.

"Hey Vincent," she said, not sure if it was a threat or not. It certainly didn't look dangerous. "What is that?"

Several things happened at once. Vincent drew his gun and shot at the frog. The frog darted forward and _slapped her leg. _The world began to spin, getting larger and larger, and she was suddenly on the ground, as a frog . . . And as luck would have it, the Turks burst into the clearing on a golden chocobo, which came to an abrupt halt, tossing Reno off.

Then Cloud stomped out of the bushes. "You are a despicable creature, Reno. You know that."

Reno hauled his ass up from the ground, and at the same time, Claire felt herself getting scooped up and tucked into the folds of Vincent's cloak. She could still see everything. Including a brief spat with Reno and Cloud that ended with the former sprawled on top of Rude. Both unconscious, but not dead. She hoped.

"Good to see you again, Cloud."

Cloud shot Vincent an irritated glare. He made a beeline to his chocobo after squishing the Turks, and he had been petting her soothingly. "Good to see you too." His mako-glow eyes swept the area, looking for Claire and not seeing her. "Where's she?"

"I left her with the Tiny Bronco," Vincent lied. "I don't want her to get hurt by Hojo. She felt it was best. We don't know what he did to her."

"Right," Cloud said. He seemed like he was going to add more, but didn't. "Well, can you use company on this journey?"

"Yeah."

Cloud swung onto Lightning. "It'll go faster this way.

"Agreed." Vincent swung onto the chocobo behind Cloud. And together they rode toward the Umbrella facility.

Claire was silent, still shocked about getting turned into a toad. And not sure what to say or do. If Cloud had previously been a frog she knew it wasn't permanent, but she didn't know how long it lasted either. Maybe until True Love's Kiss . . . and if that was the case, she was screwed.


	12. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:** Okay, first off, sorry for the long delay. I got sidetracked into other projects and this got pushed back. But I've officially finished the rough draft version, so rest assured this isn't going to go into the swirling vortex of unfinished fanfics. I'll try and post regularly from here out - just remember, reviews ALWAYS make me post faster! Thanks!

**Chapter Eleven**

It was a short ride to Umbrella's HQ. And when they got close enough, it became apparent that it wasn't going to be an intense fight. It wasn't going to be a fight at all. Security at the facility was _maxed out_. A thirty foot brick and steel wall surrounded the compound. The top was ringed with barbed wire and there were evenly spaced guard towers, equipped with machine guns, spotlights, and soldiers. There was a thirty foot deadzone around the wall, with all the foliage burned away. After a brief survey, Cloud declared that it was actually a minefield. And unless they knew the safe route through, they'd get blasted.

Claire, still a frog, wanted to say they should look for trampled grass, but Vincent beat her to it. He said, "Looks like the only path is through the front doors."

That wasn't helpful, considering that the front doors were more heavily guarded than the rest of the overly guarded facility.

"We're going to need more help," Cloud mused.

"I was hoping a surgical strike at the leadership would be sufficient," Vincent said.

Cloud sighed. "So was I. Listen, Vincent, about that girl. There's something that you should know about her."

Vincent was silent.

Claire wondered what he could possibly know about her. Had he discovered she was with the Turks? Or that she was from another planet? And if he had, who had gotten hurt to give him the information? She cursed her froggy-form for the eighty-billionth-time.

"She's been infected by Hojo with a preliminary strand of his latest project. And –"

"I already know," Vincent interrupted. "She's afraid that she'll turn into a zombie."

Cloud shook his head. "From what we can gather she's not in danger unless he gets his hands on her. She apparently escaped before he could complete the experiment."

"I see," Vincent said. He shifted, red cape suddenly obscuring Claire's vision.

Cloud's voice penetrated the cloth. "He's trying to use her to bring Sephiroth back. The WRO thinks he's got a pretty good chance."

"He doesn't," Vincent said, voice firm. "I will not let him have Claire."

"You sound possessive," Cloud said. He caught the reigns for his chocobo and started away from the facility. "But you did leave her on the beach unattended. We should get back. It would be really bad if she were captured."

"Yeah," Vincent said, without any real conviction. "We should get back."

Claire squirmed. _What about Umbrella?_ she wanted to ask. They ALWAYS had a hidden bolt hole, and all they had to do was find it. Then they could find Hojo and lay down some serious hurt.

"We'll have to assemble a full-scale assault," Cloud said. "But I doubt we'll manage to get any sort of solid troops together. The WRO is completely preoccupied with minor outbreaks of this T-virus around the Planet."

"Your point," Vincent said.

"We'll need the girl to be completely hidden until after this passes. So long as we don't have to deal with Sephiroth we can handle anything Hojo can dish out."

Claire rolled her eyes. Whoever Sephiroth was, he was NOT worse than a full-scale outbreak. And if they thought she was going to hide under a rock, they were going to find that they had another thing coming.

"Agreed," Vincent said. "I'll take care of her."

_Like hell you will, _Claire thought. It was reminiscent of the way STARS was always shuffling her to the side. So what if she didn't have formal training – at least she wasn't as helpless as Rebecca.

Vincent was still outlining how he was going to protect her. His description sounded halfway decent, and if his reasons had been to establish a romantic getaway, she would have been sold. But not when she had a stupid scientist to stop. She hopped loose of him, landing silently on the ground and then hopping into the foliage.

Vincent didn't notice her departure; he was listening to Cloud talk about picking up his new motorcycle – well, actually it was Tifa's, but he considered it his. Vincent was agreeing that the stop would be a good idea, and he was probably thinking about how to get her to the Tiny Bronco before Cloud realized she hadn't been left there.

Claire watched him leave, regretting the separation. The further he got the more she wanted to be close to him. So she turned away, and tried to come up with her new plan of attack.

It was then that she remembered she was a frog. This was going to be more difficult than she thought.

Leon parked the sub, and led the black chocobo from the hold. "Come on," he muttered. "Let's go find Claire."

"What was that?" Jill asked. She was tying the sub up as best she could. "Did you say something Leon?"

"Yeah, he did," Rebecca said. "And then he left." She pointed at his retreating back. "Apparently when he said we weren't riding a big bird he meant he was riding and we weren't."

"As in he just ditched us in favor of speed," Jill said. "Perfect." She rubbed the back of her neck. "Oh well, I guess that's male-confusion for you."

"Male confusion?"

"Yeah, he hasn't decided if he loves Claire yet. The result is that – he's riding off to save her on a white horse."

"Black bird," Rebecca corrected. "Big black bird."

Jill rolled her eyes. "I guess so."

"So what are we going to do?" Rebecca asked. "Wait here?"

Jill, who had been looking around, shrugged. "No. I think we're going to take a motorcycle."

"Really? And where are we going to get that from" Rebecca crossed her arms. "I mean, if we –"

"Someone left one here," Jill said. She walked around the bike, noticing two sets of foot-prints. It looked like a big guy and a little guy had gotten off the bike, and took something from the shore – maybe a boat of some kind. Even more curious was the fact that the motorcycle tracks came from the water and looked like they had chased a chocobo into the distant forest. And then the bike came back but not the bird.

Weird.

But irrelevant. "Get on, Becca. We have a pharmaceutical company to put out."

Rebecca sighed. "No helmets?"

"Get on."

"Fine."

Five minutes later they were gone.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Morning dawned with a blush of red and pink across the western sky. Claire had returned to the campsite where she'd been turned into a frog – her hope was that somehow another frog would turn her human again. Instead she got there and crawled into a burrow, too exhausted to so much as twitch a webbed foot.

But now it was morning, and after a scant hour of sleep, she heard the murmur of a human voice. She lifted her head, canvassing the clearing.

What she saw made her heart sore. Leon S. Kennedy. His light brown hair was wind tousled and he was leading a black chocobo across the clearing. He appeared to be talking to the bird.

Then he crouched down, dusting his fingers across the grass. "Claire and that pointy-toed bastard came this way," he muttered. He cocked his head to the side, drawing his Desert Eagle.

Claire checked to see what the danger was, and saw – to her horror – three swaying frogs. _Blast them! _She thought. _Quick, hurry._

"Just frogs," Leon muttered. "My spider-sense is failing me." He holstered his gun. One of the frogs darted forward.

Claire hopped out of her hidey-hole. _Oh, no you don't!" _she thought. She tackled the attacking frog, slapping it as viciously as she could. In response, it leapt backward, falling in line with the other frogs.

Leon looked over. "Frog-fights, that's just terrific." He put his hands on his hips. "Can't you amphibians take it someplace else?"

In response two things happened. One frog _attacked _Claire; another attacked Leon. And Claire turned into a human girl and Leon turned into a frog.

"I'm saved!" Claire squealed in delight. "Leon, watch out for the . . ." she fell silent, realizing what had happened. "Don't worry. It doesn't appear to be permanent. Although I've been a frog for the better part of a day –"

The Leon-frog was staring at himself incredulously. Before he got over his plight, the frogs attacked again. This time Claire was turned back into a frog. She let out a mental moan and attacked the frog, hoping that touching it would turn her back. No such luck.

Thus began a frog-fight. Claire and Leon alternated between human and frog form, and the Touch Me's devilishly attacked. And they were being joined by more of the frogs. Claire went from frog to human to frog to human more times than she could count. Then, in a near lull, both Claire and Leon were human.

Leon swung her onto the chocobo and mounted it himself, and they took off.

"Holy hell," Leon said when they were a good distance away. "I now have something I hate more than crocodiles, and if I see Rebecca in the not-too-distant-future, she'll go naked or change."

"Why?"

"She's wearing a frog suit," Leon said. Then he hugged her. His arms were strong and warm, but the embrace wasn't sexual in the slightest. It was a good-to-see-you hug, and it made Claire's heart stutter with a longing for something more.

She leaned back into his arms. "Thanks for the save, Kennedy."

He laughed. "Not so much of a save. I almost think fighting a Tyrant is easier."

"It is," Claire said. "But supposedly ribbons protect you from getting turned into a frog." She thought about Vincent and felt a pang of guilt for the comfort she was taking from Leon's embrace. She pulled forward, making it look like she was petting the chocobo. "So where did you get her?"

"Borrowed with intent to return . . ."

"Stolen?"

"Yep."

She patted his leg. "It'll be okay."

Leon cleared his throat. "Speaking of okay, how are you?"

"Good." She shrugged. "I got caught by . . . Vincent. But we found a town of zombies. Cleaned it out – you'll never believe how good of a shot he is – and then we came here to take care of Dr. Hojo. But he decided to go for help."

"And you didn't want to go?"

"Right. Umbrella can't be allowed to get a threshold grip on this planet." She quickly explained about the base and the security.

"I might have an idea on where the bolt-hole is," Leon said. He turned the chocobo around and they started back toward the beach. "I passed this weird hole in the ground when I was following your tracks."

"The Temple of the Ancients was there," Claire said. Then slapped a hand to her forehead. "Umbrella loves stuff like that."

They reached the Temple of the Ancients crater by mid-afternoon. Leon swung off the chocobo, scanning the area. "There don't appear to be any frogs, but keep your eyes open."

"Right," Claire swung off as well. She dusted off her pants and stretched. Leon appeared to be hypnotized, he stared at her, mouth agape.

"What?" Claire asked, suddenly freaking out. Had her time as a frog left some permanent disfigurement?

Leon shook his head quickly. "Nothing. You just look really good." He rubbed the side of his face. "Very Arabian."

Claire remembered that she was wearing Jasmine clothes and blushed. "Thanks." She checked the Griffin, suddenly thankful that she'd taken to carrying ammunition rather than waiting for Vincent to reload for her. "Vincent picked it out," she said. "I guess he likes red . . ." her voice trailed off. Ada Wong wore red. Suddenly she wished that the outfit was blue or pink. At least then she would be more confident that Leon liked it because it looked good on her and not because he might be imagining it on Ada.

Leon frowned. "What's the deal with Vincent?"

"No deal." She swung over the edge of the hole and started climbing down, using vines as support. Leon moved to another series of vines and started down without a word.

The soil was rough and rocky and the vines were old and sturdy. It wasn't hard to descend, although Claire had a sinking suspicion that going up would be much more difficult. Well, unless they were being chased by something. If that was the case, she would be able to climb really, really fast.

And hopefully there wouldn't be any frogs at the top when she got there. Although, now that she was thinking about it, it would be kind of funny if a Tyrant got turned into a frog. She laughed at the thought, caught a bad vine and fell ten feet before managing to get a good grip.

"You okay?" Leon asked.

"Uhh . . . fine, besides pride," she said. "At least Vincent didn't see me."

"Vincent again . . ." Leon muttered, voice darkening. Then his vine snapped and he fell several feet before gaining a new purchase.

"You okay?"

"Besides pride," Leon answered.

"Guess it's a good thing Ada isn't here then," Claire said.

"I'm more worried that you're here," Leon said after a second. "Ada already thinks I'm a bumbling idiot."

"You're not," Claire said. "You're one of the coolest, most talented people I know besides –"

"Vincent?" Leon hissed.

"Ahh . . . no, Chris actually. I don't think anyone is better than him when it comes to grace, poise, and ass-kicking ability. He'd never get turned into a frog. He'd turn them into toe-jam."

"Right . . ." Leon let go and dropped the last five feet. "No one can beat Chris Redfield."

Claire dropped, hit uneven ground and ended up on her butt. "Right. Chris is the coolest. Hands down." She pushed herself to a standing position. "Let's look around."

There were eddies of green lights seeping from the ground at points, like a mist. And glittering in one of the points was a silvery orb. Claire picked it up. "Materia," she said. "Supposedly with this stuff anyone can do magic." She stuck it into the slot on the Griffin. "And this is a materia slot, when you use it, it makes the materia grow and eventually it will divide."

Leon smiled, a small upward quirk of his lips that bloomed into a full smile. "I'll keep my eyes open for more."

"You do that," Claire said. She stepped forward just as a wave of green mist spiraled from the ground. The mist enveloped her, and she could hear echoes of a long past conversation. A man's voice, deep and forbidding. Images of a silver-haired, black cloaked individual flickered before her eyes. He turned, eyes mako-green. In his hand was an orb of black materia.

"_So you're the one Hojo picked . . . I'd heard rumors through the Lifestream. Felt a quickening." A bitter twist of lips. "But I'd rather stay dead than be reborn as a hapless child."_

Then the mist was gone and she was left blinking, staring into Leon's piercing blue eyes. "I'm okay," she said. She swallowed hard, chasing the visages of the nightmare away.

"What happened?"

She shook her head wordlessly. "Don't know, but I see the bolt hole." She pointed at a nearly completely obscured hatch. "Ready to visit Umbrella?"

"Yeah."

Without another word they pried the cover off (thankfully Leon had the foresight to bring a crowbar . . . )


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Inside was a dark, dirt-lined tunnel. Claire ducked her head, but still brushed the ceiling. Dirt fell in a gentle shower. The maximum height was four feet, so after the first twenty minutes of travel, her lower back started to hurt. Then the tunnel got smaller. She dropped her hands and knees, crawling forward. "You know . . . maybe this isn't the bolt hole."

"I'm getting that impression too," Leon said. "But at least I'm enjoying . . ."

Claire stopped crawling. "Enjoying what?" She was sweaty and dirty and her back hurt and her knees hurt and her hands were starting to feel bruised from the rocks in the dirt. What was there to enjoy?

"Nothing," Leon said, far too quickly. "You have a nice . . ."

Claire's sweaty face turned bright pink. He was admiring her derriere. She picked up her pace, suddenly anxious to be standing again. At least then she'd be less self-conscious about her looks.

Fifteen minutes later, the hole encountered a stone hallway. Claire peeked both ways and then dropped down. She dusted as much of the dirt off as she could. Inside the stone hallway it was cool, almost cold in comparison with the sweaty darkness of the rabbit hole.

Leon dropped down beside her and proceeded to dust himself off. "Ada would have never went through there," he commented.

"Oh?"

He brushed his fingers across her face. "You're a tough girl."

"Thanks." She bit her bottom lip. His eyes were so blue. And even covered in dirt and sweat, he had a good-guy bad-guy look to him. She moved toward him, contemplating kissing him. At the same time he moved toward her, lips parting ever so slightly.

Her heartbeat quickened. She dreamed of this for a long time. Just before their lips touched, an image of Vincent flashed through her mind. _He loves someone else, _she thought, trying to force the image to go. Take what you have in front of you. What you've always wanted. She closed her eyes and pushed her mouth the last few centimeters only to discover that Leon was no longer there.

She opened her eyes, looking around. No one. Damn. "Leon?"

Something whacked at her foot. She looked down and saw three frogs.

And as she watched a cloud of fire formed around one, and it fell over. Dead. "That better not have been frog-Leon," she said.

Both of the remaining frogs turned toward her, shaking their heads jointly.

Claire placed her hands on her hips. "Which one of you is Leon?"

Both frogs, again at the same time, pointed at themselves. "Ahh . . ." Claire said. "That doesn't really help." She knelt down. "Although I suppose it doesn't matter since I can't turn you back."

The one frog nodded, as if it understood. The other rolled its eyes and made a puckering motion. "You want me to kiss you?"

The frog nodded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "And you think that will turn you back into a . . . prince?"

The frog gave her and "of course" look.

"Well, then you're not Leon," she said. "But you're probably another human who ran into one of those damn frogs." She bit her lip, suddenly thinking about the Frog Princess movie she'd watched with Sherry Birkin just a few months ago. If she kissed the frog and turned into a frog, she would . . . well, she didn't know what she would do. So she took a chance. She picked up Leon, and finally after a good three years, kissed him for the first time.

It was a dry, almost slimy kiss. But sure enough, there was a sizzling cloud of white smoke and then Leon saw standing over her. And she wasn't a frog either.

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and placed a kiss on the other frog as well. Another cloud of sizzling white smoke, and she had a second man standing over her. She stood up, dusting her knees.

"I'm Claire," she said, extending one hand toward the former frog. He was a tall, slender blonde man with cool blue eyes. He was wearing a white trench coat and white pants and had a long silver pistol fitted with several materia – including a fire materia.

"Rufus Shinra," he said, nodding slightly and shaking her hand. Then he froze, as if regretting the introduction.

"Don't worry," Leon said. "We don't know who you are." He gave Claire a wry smile. "Although, it's clear that if we asked around we'd fine out some less than flattering things about you."

"To which we say, who cares," Claire added. "We'll reserve judgment for ourselves."

He gave a tight smile. "Yes, well, I suppose that will have to do." He shook Leon's hand, then raised his gun and shot an approaching frog. Claire and Leon both turned and fired on the wee beasty. The three combined shots put the frog down.

"Is that Vincent Valentine's gun?" Rufus asked.

"Maybe . . ."

"How did you . . ."

"You have your secrets, and I have mine," Claire said quickly. "Now, why don't you tell us about this place?"

Rufus frowned. Clearly he was used to having his questions fully answered. And maybe he was used to not having people ask him questions either. Whatever he was thinking, he dropped it and answered the question. "I was taken against my will –"

"Kidnapped?" Leon suggested.

"I dislike the helplessness that term imputes, but yes, that's one way of putting it."

"And you escaped?"

He nodded. "Barley."

"Was it Dr. Hojo who captured you?" Leon asked. "He's a sleazy looking man with a pony-tail –"

"I know what Hojo looks like," Rufus said. "He used to work for me."

Claire and Leon exchanged a quick glance.

"Sad to say I used to fund his research. But he's consistently taken things too far. Currently he plans on reviving Sephiroth, and turning the Planet into a zombie."

"You hopefully mean turning everyone on the Planet into zombies."

"No. He's going to release his T-virus into the Lifestream."

"That doesn't sound good," Claire said.

"It isn't." Rufus fanned himself down, frowning. "But I can't do anything about it myself. I need to go back and get help."

"If you want to get help," Leon said, "That's fine. But let us pick your brain first."

"I'm not sure I can get help," Rufus said. "This place is a freaking maze."

"Claire pointed at the tunnel they had just come through. "That leads outside and Leon's got a chocobo at the lip of the hole where the Temple of the Ancients used to be."

Rufus blinked. "Oh." He paused. "What are you doing here?"

"We're here to stop Hojo," Leon said. "We need to find his lab. But if it's a maze, it looks like it might be more difficult than just getting directions from you."

"Decidedly so," Rufus said. "This appears to be an extension of the Temple of the Ancients, which is attached to Hojo's new labs."

Claire shot another approaching frog. "And it's populated with frogs."

"Touch Me's," Rufus said. "Who are you working for? The WRO?"

"Does it matter?" Leon asked.

"Yes. It matters. I need to know who is coming after you so I can decide whether to accompany you or go for help." He eyed the Griffin. "Are you with Cloud Strife?"

"Hell no," Claire said. "That guy gets on my nerves. I mean, he's a good enough guy. Strong and tough and manly and all that, but I gotta tell you that if it weren't for him I'd have . . ." Her voice trailed off. She'd have Vincent with her instead of Leon. And suddenly she didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

"Have what?" Rufus asked.

Leon gave her a similarly puzzled look.

Claire forced a half-smile. "I guess that's just Reno's influence shining through. He has a – "

"Who's Reno?" Leon interjected.

"Uhmm . . ." Claire winched. "I guess he's just a guy I know."

Rufus had pulled back and was eyeing her suspiciously. "How do you know Reno and Rude?"

Claire squirmed a bit more. "Well . . ."

Leon stepped back from her, crossing his arms and eyeing her with suspicion to equal Rufus's.

"It gets complicated."

"Does he know that you're here?" Rufus asked. "Are you dating him?" His face had a look of horror. "Because you seemed like a decent girl – not that there's anything wrong with Reno, but seriously . . ."

"You're dating him?" Leon said, eyes widening.

"No, not really."

"Not really?" both men repeated.

"No." She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, and then mentally gave up. "I'm working with him. With the Turks. Unofficially."

"U-u-unofficially?" Rufus stuttered. "And how many other 'unofficial' Turks are there?"

"Just me," Claire said. She gave a sheepish smile. "It's a long story, but I kinda conned them into letting me into their group. They set me up to spy on some people in Kalm, including Cloud and his cronies."

Leon was nodding, the story falling into place for him. Rufus still look flogged.

"Conned?" he repeated.

"I needed the money; they needed a spy. It seemed perfect."

Rufus brushed a hand through his hair. "Well, then if you're a member of the Turks, I suppose you know who I am."

"Rufus Shinra," Claire said. "But . . . they never mentioned you, so I don't really know how you might know them, you know?"

"They never _mentioned me?_" Rufus repeated. "Did they happen to _mention _who they were working for?"

Claire was starting to have a sinking suspicion that Reno and Rude worked for the blonde hottie standing in front of her. "No . . . they kind of alluded to –"

"To being in charge themselves?" Rufus inquired.

That was what they had alluded to, but Claire hadn't believed them, and she wasn't going to get them into worse trouble than she might have already gotten them into. "No. Just that I wasn't important enough to know all of the ins-and-outs of the organization."

"I see," Rufus said. He pursed his lips. "Well, I suppose you may have realized by now that I am in charge of the Turks."

"I got that," Claire said. Considering that she had the Turks pegged as the mafia of the Planet, that meant Rufus Shinra was very, very important.

He shook his head. "Well, welcome to the Turks, Claire Redfield." He extended his hand again, shaking it firmly this time. "It's been a while since we had fresh blood."

"Thanks," Claire said, suddenly awkward. What the hell was she supposed to call him now?

Leon seemed to sense her confusion, so he took over. "So what's your call, Rufus? Are you staying, going, or coming with us?"

He glanced at the hole and then at the disheveled appearance of Claire and Leon. Claire had the feeling a desire not to get terribly dirty played into his plans. "We'll shut down Umbrella," he said. "But first, we need to call for backup."

"How?"

"We go outside and I make a phone call," Rufus said.

"Claire should go," Leon said. "It'll be quicker with just one person and the hole is pretty small."

"Agreed," Rufus said. He handed her the phone. "Call Tseng. He's number 3 on speed-dial."

Claire gave the hole a dirty look, which she shared with Leon. Then she accepted the phone. "Anything else?"

Rufus detailed the message he wanted delivered. Claire nodded, and started into the sweaty, dirty hole. She could hear Leon and Rufus talking as she left. It sounded like a typical law-enforcement interrogation coupled with mafia-evasive answers. Mutely she wondered how Leon would feel about her joining the Turks once he realized exactly what they were.


	15. Chapter 14

**Author's Note:** I hope you like this chapter. It's one of my favorites.

**Chapter Fourteen**

"Crawl through the hole again, Claire," Claire muttered to herself. "The freakin' hole is pretty small and it'll be quicker with just one person." She rolled her eyes, biting off any additional irritated comments. She could see the light at the end of the tunnel now.

She reached the opening and hauled herself out, careful to avoid the swirling eddies of the green light. She didn't need no more stinkin' visions. Then she pulled Rufus's cell phone from her bra. It was a spiffy phone, sleek and thin and almost weightless. Besides the sweat and dirt it even looked brand-new. She snapped it open, jabbing the 3 with one finger.

How had she been delegated to messenger anyway? Wasn't she better than this? The phone started ringing, and she reminded herself that she couldn't complain. Every job needed to be done, and if things went south in the Umbrella facility, it would at least be nice to know someone was coming to pick up the pieces.

"Sir! Where are you?" a man said, his voice somehow subservient while making an irrefutable demand.

"Tseng?" Claire inquired. No way was she delivering the message to the wrong person. Although, now that she thought about it, maybe she should have asked who "Tseng" was before she crawled through the hole . . .

There was a heartbeat of silence. "This is Tseng."

Claire thought that was a weird way of answering, but let it go. "Right, well, I have a message to deliver from Rufus Shinra."

There was another pause, and she heard Reno yapping in the background. Apparently they thought she had kidnapped Rufus and were tracing the call. That was nice. She brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "Do you want me to give you the message now, or shall I wait until Reno's done hooking up the trace?"

"You may deliver your message now," Tseng said, voice dripping acid in Reno's direction.

"Right," Claire said. "First, the authentication code so you know that I'm not an enemy." She rattled off the 16 digit code Rufus had given her. And then rattled off the word-for-word message he'd given her, including the location of the Umbrella facility, the crawl-space she was going to revisit shortly, and what Rufus's plans were while he was waiting for Tseng.

"He's going to do what?" Tseng repeated.

"He – we," Claire corrected. "Are going to turn Hojo into a dead pancake."

"He said that?"

"No, I paraphrased a bit," Claire said. "He said 'take care of things once and for all.'"

"I see," Tseng said. "And now for some questions – who are you? How do you know Rufus? Tell me everything."

"Right," Claire said. Rufus had given her directions on how to answer these particular questions as well. "My name is Claire Redfield. I'm a member of the Turks –"

"No. You're not," Tseng said. He sounded confident, almost angry that she would even suggest such a thing.

"Actually, I am," Claire said, frowning.

"I would know if you were a Turk, Miss Redfield," he said. With her name, all of Reno's background noise died. "Unless there's something that you want to tell me." His voice was deathly quiet now.

Claire swallowed, wondering again just who the hell Tseng was. And exactly how low on the totem pole Reno and Rude were. When they had recruited her they made it sound like they were high on the chain, but the more people from the Turks that she ran into the less certain she was. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to think of some way out of the mess without getting Reno and Rude in any more trouble than she might have already gotten them into.

"Claire," Tseng said, her name ice on his tongue. "When I ask _my Turks _a question I expect a prompt answer. You're new, so you probably don't know _all the details._ But mark my words, when I ask something, I do not tolerate half-answers, hesitant answers, or dodgy responses. _Do I make myself clear?_"

Claire's mouth opened and closed, her mind blanking. Chris had always warned her something like this would happen if she joined the military. But she was in the mafia. Somehow she'd expected things to be . . . different.

"Claire?"

"Yes, uhmm . . ."

"Yes, sir," Tseng supplied. "Now, when did you join the Turks and what did Reno tell you?"

"To keep an eye on Cloud and his ilk," Claire said. "And I joined approximately a month ago. Maybe a day or so more or less."

"To keep an eye on Cloud? And I suppose some others: Mikey, Sam Wysteia, and the like?"

"Yeah," Claire said. "Sir."

Tseng exhaled sharply. "Yeah, sir?" he repeated. Claire imagined him shaking his head.

"Yes, sir," Claire corrected. "And now, although I suspect that you're supposed to initiate the end of the conversation, I am under orders to return to the radio-free-zone promptly." That wasn't actually true, but she could maybe pass it off as an implied order. She didn't have time to deal with the tender-footing of her job.

And if things went bad inside, she wouldn't have to worry about the job at all.

"No, that's quite all right," Tseng said, switching to a brisk, professional tone. "But mark my words, Claire, you had better keep the President safe. You're his prime bodyguard, and whatever else you think you're supposed to be doing there, he is the primary objective. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," Claire said, suddenly quiet. When he put it like that she was even more anxious to get back. The thought of someone getting hurt on her watch wasn't comforting.

"Good. We'll be there as soon as possible. But that won't be too soon." In the background, Claire heard Reno commenting that at least they had the Tiny Bronco. "Shut up, Reno," Tseng ordered. "Claire, you have your orders."

"Yeah," Claire agreed. "Talk to you later." She hung up without another word. If they had the Tiny Bronco, Cloud and Vincent were probably skulking around somewhere. That was just great – the Vincent part genuinely and the Cloud part sarcastically.

She thought about that, and called Tseng back.

He answered promptly. "Report."

"Cloud Strife is floating around the area," she said. "With Vincent Valentine. I don't know how Cloud got here, but Vincent came on the Tiny Bronco." She craned her head up, staring at the lip of the hole. "Just thought you might like to know."

"Understood. Get back to the President." He hung up.

Claire let out a breath, tucked the phone back into her bra and headed back into the hole.

** Earlier . . . **

Cloud and Vincent discovered that Tifa's bike was gone. Then when they hit the beach and the Tiny Bronco was missing. Cloud crossed his arms. "I guess Claire took off."

Vincent made to check his cloak for something, then frowned. "She's gone."

"I just said that."

Vincent shot his a dark glance. "No. I mean she's gone. She was right here."

"With us?" Cloud said, suspicion marring his features. "What? Did you cast mini on her and hide her in your pocket?"

Vincent shook his head. "No. She was attacked by a Touch Me just before you reached the clearing. I thought it would be best not to mention it."

Cloud rolled his eyes skyward. "Vincent . . . "

"She was safe."

Cloud shook his head. "No. Hojo wants to get her pregnant with Sephiroth. If he gets his hands on her –"

Vincent held up his hand. "No. She's a frog right now. She doesn't know how to get back – "

"Everyone –"

"She doesn't believe in magic, Cloud. And I'm more worried about her getting kicked in the woods. She's capable, but inexperienced. She refused to attack a goblin because she thought it was a mini-man."

"But that's stupid," Cloud said. "Even a child knows that goblins aren't little-men. They're dangerous and –"

Vincent was already heading away from the shore. "I have to find her."

Cloud swore – some of the darker, angry words he'd picked up from Zack Fair during the war. Nothing like the childish rage that Barrett always spit out or the vulgar obscenities Cid was found of. This was a real paint-peeling curse. Enough to make a gremlin blush at the least.

He stole a glance around the shore, noticing, rather belated that his submarine was tied up. Maybe the Turks had taken that too – Tseng and Elena, maybe. But then again, Tifa had said it was someone new.

Regardless, he had to find the girl. It would be too much if he had to deal with Sephiroth yet again.

They returned to the clearing where Cloud had left the Turks in an unconscious heap. Besides an abnormal amount of Touch Me's, it looked fine. But a closer inspection revealed scuffled footprints – as if a woman and man on a chocobo had been repeatedly turned into a frogs and then back to humans.

"Who are you with?" Vincent murmured.

"It doesn't matter, does it?" Cloud asked. "It looks like they're together."

"Claire doesn't have a boyfriend or a lover," Vincent said sharply. He stood up, and strolled off. "They went this way."


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Claire popped out of the hole back inside the temple. "Sorry it took so long," she said while dusting herself off and wishing for her old pink hot pants back. As nice as the Jasmine outfit was, it seemed to absorb clouds of dirt. When no one answered, she looked around and saw no one.

"Sir?" she called out tentatively. "Leon?"

No response. She expanded her search, eyes scanning the ground. Maybe they were frogs again. But there were no frogs on the ancient stone. And no signs of a struggle. And no footprints leading off in either direction. She swore under her breath, drawing the Griffin.

Rufus had come from the left side of the tunnel. So maybe they were backtracking and trying to leave her out of the fight. Hopefully that was the case. Because Tseng would have her ass in a sling if she let anything happen to the President.

She started down the passage at a quick clip.

It didn't take her long to discover how messed up the temple was. There were stone corridors winding to dead ends. There were trapdoors threatening to plunge the unwary into pits of spikes or alligators. There were staircases leading to brick walls and staircases that were upside down, leading to upside down doors. There were vines growing along walls, leading to black framed doorways, with the ink of black smoke spilling from their depths.

There was no sign of Rufus or Leon.

Instead there were Touch Me's galore. Dragons – yes, real, fire-belching dragons, with beady eyes and leathery wings. And then there were wolves, and skeletons built into moving walls, that sliced at her with Tyrant sharp claws. Then there were Lickers – so she knew that Umbrella was around somewhere.

She climbed her eighth set of vines, and sat down, tired. From where she was, she had a good view of the main maze, and she supposed if she waited long enough, Leon and Rufus would emerge from one of the narrower, darker, winding passages. Besides, when lost it was best to sit still.

Five minutes later, her patience was starting to wear thin. She pulled Rufus's phone out, checking for a signal and not getting one. She checked some of the menus though, looking for something that might help her. Instead, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a dark figure with flowing silver hair dart into a passage while green light swirled around it.

Claire reacted instantly. She snapped the phone closed, shoving it into her bra for safekeeping. She swung over the edge, letting herself freefall for an adrenaline-filled moment, and then grabbing the vines to slow her decent. Once she was on the narrow ledge, she leapt off – hoping to land on a nearby ledge rather than plunge to her death – or at the least a few broken bones. She hit the other side, ran up a staircase, and darted through a door she hadn't been in before. Inside was a deep chasm with a stone path cutting a swath of grey through the dark. She could just make out the figure, leaning over a pool of green water. As she watched, it fell forward. For a second the surface of the water was calm. Then a hand emerged, struggling to resurface.

Claire broke into a fast run. She'd always prided herself on her running ability. In high school she'd been on the track team and held the record for both long- and short-distance times. She reached the water, and without hesitation, seized the arm and pulled.

A child came out. Green eyes horribly wide, long silver hang hanging in a disheveled mess. Then his expression deadened. "Release me, woman," he snarled, eyes turning into chips of green ice.

Claire ignored him, choosing instead to pull him out of the small pool. She set him down on the ground, and then stepped back. "You okay?"

"I am dead, woman. Do I look okay?"

Claire felt a stab of sadness. Was this poor boy a victim of Umbrella? Chris had told her about some of Umbrella's experiments in Russia. The version of the virus had ripped the souls from the body, leaving confused ghosts with a very earthly feel. Chris called them Shades. They could hurt the living – even kill them, but they were usually tied to a certain place. The place they died.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, and seized him into a furious hug. "I won't let anyone hurt you again."

He was stiff in her arms, but Claire ignored that. She stroked his soft, silver hair, whispering softly that she would take care of him, make sure that everything turned out all right for him.

And after a few minutes, he relaxed into her arms. "Strange," he said. "I've never felt this before."

"Felt what?"

"Loved and important."

Claire's hug tightened. "That's horrible."

"I was respected, then feared and loathed. But never loved." He awkwardly hugged her back. "You are a good woman, Claire Redfield." He pulled away, gently, and Claire let him.

"You know my name?"

"I've been watching you," he said. "Hoping to see you die."

"You can't help it," Claire said, forgiving him for the desire. Umbrella ruined many people. When Steve had been infected, he had wanted her dead too, but had been able to resist it. This boy seemed more than capable of resisting the impulse too. And even if he attacked her, she wouldn't blame him.

He responded by raising one gloved hand. A sword materialized. A long, long narrow sword that was twice the length of his child's body. He swooped it down, angling the blade toward her throat. Claire placed two fingers against the metal, keeping it from touching her.

"What can I do for you?" she asked. "Is there anything I can do to make this better?"

"Make this better?" he asked, child's voice cracking. "As in be my mother? My mother was a cold woman who hated the fact that she gave birth to me. She constantly cried and eventually she went to a waterfall cave and encased herself in ice so that she would not have to bear the shame of giving birth to me."

"I don't know about being a mother," Claire said. "My own mother didn't care for having me around. She had no use for children." She smiled. "But I do know about being a sister."

"Sister?"

"Yeah," she said. "A little sister, most of the time. My big brother, Chris, he's the best brother a girl could hope for. Bad taste in women, but I protected him from that. And whenever I'm in trouble, I know he's doing everything he can to help me."

"Where is he now?" The boy shifted the sword abruptly, so that it was resting in the hollow of her throat. "Because you are in trouble."

Claire closed her eyes. "I know he's looking for me. But I don't think he can reach me." She stepped back and to the side and forward, so the sword was resting on her shoulder. "It's enough to know that he's out there, worried about me. It's enough to know that I will always, always, have someone on my side."

He cocked his head to the side. "What's your point?"

"My point is that I can't be your mother because I don't know how. But I can be your big sister. Your protector. The one person who will look out for you. Argue with you. Love you. Hate you. All at the same time. But always, always, be on your side."

"Even if I'm trying to destroy the Planet?" he asked.

"Are you trying to destroy the Planet?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll be right by your side," Claire said. "Stopping you every step of the way."

"Ha!" he said, triumphantly. "So you're a liar, dear sister. You claim that you'll be by my side always and then you mince words and would stand with my enemies."

Claire laughed. "You've never had a sister like me before," she said, eyes sparkling. "Chris could tell you all about me. I used to foil his grand schemes too. Although, truth be told, they weren't as grand as destroying the planet. He was more interested in slutty girls. And I stopped those relationships because sometimes a super-interested little sister knows best. And in the case of you destroying the world, I know best."

The boy choked. "You do, do you?" His sword disappeared, and he crossed his arms. "And how is it that you possess this information?"

"Sisterly instinct," Claire said. She walked up to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "I've never had a little brother before, but if you want you can be mine."

He laughed again. A nice, awkward, pleased laugh. Then there was a swirl of green around him, and he was suddenly taller and older than she was. "You can be my little sister, Claire."

He touched his forehead to hers. "And I will not destroy the world if you can tell me why I shouldn't destroy the world."

Claire met his eyes unblinkingly. "Because as my big brother your job is to protect me and keep me happy. And I wouldn't be happy if you destroyed the Planet."

"Very well," he said. He pulled away, then kissed her forehead. "I will be your guardian, Claire."

By now Claire recognized him as the man from the swirling green mist in the Temple of the Ancients hole. "So, do I just call you brother or are you going to tell me your name?"

"Sephiroth," he said, watching her carefully.

"Sephiroth?" Claire repeated. The name seemed somewhat familiar. "Well, welcome to the family, Sephiroth. Hopefully I get to introduce you to Chris sometime."

"Is he my brother too?"

"My brother is you brother," Claire said.

"Then my brothers are your brothers," Sephiroth said. "And when you meet them, you must tell them this. And explain to them that they must protect you."

"Okay," Claire said, smiling.

"There names are Kadaj, Loz, and Yazoo."

"Got a picture?"

Sephiroth waved a hand and a picture of the three appeared.

"I can see the family resemblance," Claire said. She took the photo, and carefully pulled out a tattered photo of Chris. "This is Chris."

"He doesn't look much like you," Sephiroth noted. "But I can see the resemblance around the eyes and mouth." He touched the photo. "May I?"

"Yeah," Claire said. It was her only picture of Chris, but she had memories of him to bolster her spirits. All Sephiroth had was her say-so that Chris was wicked cool. "Keep it."

"Thank you," Sephiroth said, voice oddly choked.

For a few minutes the two now-adopted siblings stared at their new family members. Then Sephiroth coughed. "I do have one other brother, but he's something of a black sheep and probably won't like you as a sister very much."

"His loss," Claire said.

"Yes, but I get the feeling that you will be a good sister to him as well, but I don't want you to adopt my father."

"Hey," Claire said, spreading her arms to the side. "I didn't offer you my mother or father because they aren't worth sharing."

"Hojo is my father," Sephiroth said.

"Eww . . ." Claire said. "And ohh . . ."

"Eww and ohh?"

"Yeah, he's nasty. And . . . I'm going to kill him."

Sephiroth nodded. "Yes, I gathered that much. But you can't do it alone."

"Sure I can."

"It's not safe."

"It's a risk I have to take."

Sephiroth shook his head. "I can't risk you getting hurt."

"And I can't risk him spreading zombies over the Planet. Innocent people are counting on me."

"Oh Claire," Sephiroth said. "Must you be like him?"

Claire gave him a quick hug. "I have to stay true to myself." She pulled back, and before her eyes, Sephiroth started to vanish. "Wait –"

His voice slipped from the darkness. "I cannot remain any longer. The Lifestream pulls always. Tell your brothers who you are."

Then he was gone.


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note:** For anyone who is still reading. This will be finished. I promise. Please r eview :)

**Chapter Sixteen**

Claire stood in silence for few minutes, then looked behind her. Walking along t he stone path was Leon and Rufus. Neith e r appeared hurt, and as they drew clo s er , she could hear them chatting abou t gir ls. How they hadn't seen her yet w as bey ond her comprehension.

So she eavesdropped like a good and inte rested Claire.

"Ada is quite a woman," Leon was saying. "But I'm not sure how I feel about Clai re. I mean, she's not as stunningly beau tiful, but she is pretty. And she has a good heart. Whereas with Ada, I just don 't know. I think there's good in her, bu t it's not always clear."

"I know what you mean," Rufus said. "But , having not met this Ada, I would submi t that Claire is a better person. Unfort unately for you, she is one of my Turks. "

"What?" Leon said. "You have a no dating policy or something?"

Rufus snorted. "My Turks may _date _if they want, but I wouldn't allow a wis hy-washy individual such as yourself nea r her."

"Wishy-washy?"

Rufus stopped walking, and poked Leon in the chest. "A Turk is an elite soldier. Soldiers do not perform well when incon siderate individuals are playing with th eir hearts. They perform much better whe n engaged in a never-ending stream of ca sual relationships or when they have a s ingle flame burning in their hearts ."

"So you're saying I can't date Claire be cause I might be in love with Ada?"

Rufus nodded sharply. "Exactly."

Claire was about to pop up and tell them that she was there. Frankly she decided she didn't want to hear them talking ab out her anymore. But before she could sa y anything, two more individuals appeare d from a doorway on the other side of th e passage: Vincent and Cloud.

Cloud was breathing heavy, and Vincent l ooked as if they had just battled a flee t of dragons. The edges of his cloak wer e blackened and smoking. "Look," he said , voice soft. "It's Rufus Shinra."

Cloud raised his hand. "Rufus, where's t he rest of the Turks?" He eyed Leon spec ulatively from a distance. The man looke d suspiciously like the thief of his sub marine.

Rufus blinked. "Cloud, what an interesti ng surprise."

"Interesting is one way of putting it," Cloud answered.

Both groups were walking toward the midd le, where the pool of green water swirle d. Claire forgot about their conversatio n. She was captivated by Vincent all ove r again. After spending some time with h im, and the need to stare at him had pas sed. But now that they had been apart fo r almost 48 hours, she was lost again.

His face wasn't the cool mask of indiffe rence she expected. Instead he seemed de sperate. His eyes skimmed the area, movi ng sightlessly over where Claire was. An d the muscles in his cheek were bunched, as if he were trying desperately to not move his jaw.

Then they were less than four feet away, and Cloud's body broke her contact with Vincent. And she could hear them talkin g.

Cloud was saying something about looking for Claire.

"She went to get Tseng," Rufus said. "I gave Tseng orders to retrieve her, so th at she could bring him and the others he re. Then Kennedy and I set out to find – "

Before he could say anything, Claire spr ang from her crouched position to a stan ding one. "Sir, Tseng ordered me to prot ect you," she said. "I can't believe you ditched me."

For a second no one spoke. Then Leon was reaching for her, and Vincent was too. And both of them made to pull her in dif ferent directions. And Leon's hand was w arm on her bare arm and Vincent's gloves were cool. And both of them were saying her name, and Claire decided that Rufus was right about one thing. It was awful ly hard to be a solider when one's heart was doing cartwheels and backflips.

She tugged loose from both of them. "Sir ," she said to Rufus. "I'm supposed to b e your bodyguard."

Rufus blinked. "Is that what Tseng order ed you?"

"Yes."

Rufus shook his head. "I am not quite so helpless as he imagines."

"Nevertheless, I'm sticking to you like glue," she said. Then she turned her eye s to Leon. "By the way, thanks for ditc hing me."

Leon frowned. "It wasn't my idea, but Ru fus assured me you weren't coming back a nd I didn't want to waste time."

"Sure," Claire said.

"I don't think you're in a position to b e upset about getting ditched," Cloud s aid. "You ditched Vincent."

"She didn't," Vincent said. "She –"

"Sorry," Claire said. "I did ditch you, but only because I HAVE to do something about Umbrella and I knew they had a hid ey hole leading into their based around here somewhere."

Vincent looked pained, and it made Clair e's heart hurt. She reached out, catchin g his gloved hand and squeezing lightly. "But now that we're all here, we can te am up and get Hojo the comeuppance he so richly deserves."

Cloud looked as if he wanted to protest, but everyone else was already agreeing. "We just came from that way," Leon said , "and there's nothing but a maze."

"Same that way," Vincent said.

"So we walk toward the smelliest area," Claire said. "That's where Umbrella will be."

Claire was true to her word. She stuck t o Rufus like glue - mostly because it wa s easier than trying to figure out what to do with Leon-who-likes-Ada and Vincen t-who-likes-Lucretcia. And Cloud was on her like glue; apparently he was super-c oncerned that Hojo was going to pop out of the ground and capture her. He refuse d to say why that was such a bad thing, although Claire suspected he had some r eason.

That left Vincent and Leon to take point . There point-position was out of earsh ot of the others, and for a while, neith er spoke. Then Vincent idly mentioned th at Claire was the prettiest girl he'd ev er met.

"Just pretty?" Leon asked, forgetting th at that was how he'd described her as we ll.

"I've met gorgeous women before. Exquisi te women. Sexy women," Vincent said. "Cl aire is not on the same level as them. " 

"Yeah, well," Leon said. "She's better t han those women." He shot a Touch Me, an d holstered his gun. "Claire is –"

"Amazing," Vincent said. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing her smiling at Ruf us. He felt a twinge of jealousy.

Leon followed his gaze, and interpreted the look. "She's not interested in him." 

Vincent glanced over, red eyes locking w ith Leon's pure blue eyes. "How can you tell?"

"Because . . . I've seen her _I-want-you_ look before."

Vincent kept his voice and his face expr essionless. "So have I."

Leon frowned. "She's directed it at me." 

"And me."

Both men stepped away from each other, d rawing their guns and simultaneously sho oting a couple of Touch Me's.

"Claire isn't interested in you," Leon s aid. "She's enthralled. More like a moth to a flame than a woman to her paramour ."

"No," Vincent said. "She is mine."

"She's not a piece of meat for you to ow n," Leon retorted. "She's a woman –"

"And I love her," Vincent said. "And I'm not going to lose her to a boy like you ." He leapt into the air, shooting a fla ming dragon in the forehead and killing it with a single shot. He landed, cloak falling around him.

"I'm not boy," Leon said, shooting his o wn flaming dragon. He took it out with t hree surgical shots.

Vincent looked dismissively at him. "I k now the difference between a man and a b oy, and you are a boy." He pulled out a longer barrel for his Cerberus and casua lly attached it before clipping on a sni per scope. He crouched down, taking care ful aim at a distant enemy and dropping it with a single headshot.

"That's where you're wrong – "

"Oh, I'm not wrong," Vincent said. "I wa s a boy once. I remember what it was lik e. You think you know everything, but wh en it comes down to it, you don't know a nything." He dissembled the sniper packa ge. "Tell me, do you even love Claire?"

Leon bit back an instant reply, choosing instead to mull the matter over in his mind. "I'm going to marry her," he said finally. "I want to spend the rest of my life with her. Ada . . . is more a temp tation that I can resist. I love Claire . " He meant it. Every word, and as he s aid them, he knew that he wouldn't have any more lingering doubts about Claire R edfield and Ada Wong. Claire was his mat ch . He could feel it.

"Wrong answer," Vincent said. "You love her now, but you don't _love her._"

"What's the difference?"

"Simple. I love her more."

Leon shook his head. "That's what you th ink."

"Let me ask you something," Vincent said . "If she picked . . . Rufus . . . over you – and truly loved him – would you l et her go?"

"Yes."

"I wouldn't be able to," Vincent said so ftly. "I need her like I need air."

"So you'd force her to love you instead of Rufus?" Leon asked. "That sounds like obsession, not love."

"It's not that," Vincent said. "I know s he cares for me, and I . . ."

"What?"

"I did that before. Let her go." He came to the edge of a platform, and saw the first hints of a modern design. "It didn 't turn out well."

"The guy was a douchebag?" Leon asked. " Or she wasn't happy."

"Both."

"Claire has better taste than that," Leo n said. "And just because I'd let her g o doesn't mean that I would stop loving her."

Vincent glanced at him. "You don't love her, Kennedy. You just think you do."

Leon opened his mouth, a retort hot on h is lips.

"You'll love her until something better comes along."

Before Leon could reply, the others were within range. "Looks like we found the place," Cloud said. He glanced at Leon a nd Vincent. "We have to protect Claire i n there. Hojo can't so much as touch her ."

"I know," Vincent said.

"Claire can handle herself," Leon said.

And Claire, in that instant, felt the fi rst wiggle of worry. Because she both lo ved that Vincent was going to protect he r and hated the fact that he didn't thin k she could handle herself. And she love d that Leon was confident that she could handle herself, but she hated that he h adn't instantly sworn to be her white kn ight.

"Hey, Cloud," she said, voice irritated. "Rufus is the one who needs to be prote cted, and I'm the one who's going to be doing the protecting. So get over it."

Cloud shook his head. "This is a disaste r."


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the reviews. This week I have two chapters for you. Enjoy. Also, I don't think that Claire and Leon were together in any of the Resident Evil video games, but they're together a lot in fanfiction. Please review :)

**Chapter Seventeen**

Inside the Umbrella facility, the group stuck closer together. Which didn't work so well. Both Leon and Vincent and Cloud tried to stay very, very close to Claire, and Claire tried to stay close to Rufus, and it ended up as a cluster of slowly moving individuals.

Claire finally stopped walking, making sure to grab the President's sleeve so he wouldn't wander into danger. "Can we have a brief time-out?"

"What is it?" Cloud asked, beating Leon and Vincent to the question.

"It's irritating," she said. "And inefficient. And it's going to cause problems when the fighting starts." She stared at each of her would-be-protectors. "I'm not helpless." She pulled the Griffin. "I can shoot a bad guy with the best of them." She reholstered the weapon. "And I have a job to do – protecting Sir from danger. I can't do that very well with tall men flanking me."

She watched the eyes. Cloud seemed like he wasn't going to budge, but Leon's blue eyes flickered with worry. And Vincent's eyes, as always, were unfathomable. Then, simultaneously Leon and Vincent stepped away from her, both fanning out. Leon silently taking point and Vincent assuming flank position. Cloud didn't budge. If anything he got closer, but Claire decided not to press her luck with the delivery boy.

They started walking again. After a while, the signs of Umbrella were getting stronger. Leon signaled that there were two guards around the corner; Claire translated the signal.

Cloud looked at Vincent. "Can you handle it silently?"

Vincent was already assembling his Hydra for sniper purposes. He just finished when Leon quietly and efficiently took out both men with some spiffy gun they'd found in a chest. "Clear," he said.

Vincent bristled.

Claire touched his arm lightly. She didn't know why but she wanted him to know that she wasn't . . . terribly impressed? In need of him impressing her? She just didn't know. "Leon's a great a shot," she said, voice soft. "He used to be a cop, and the first time I met him he saved my life."

Vincent nodded. Then he brushed past her, body passing close enough to hers to spark an inappropriate-for-the-circumstances surge of lust. The party rounded the corner in time to see Vincent and Leon dragging the bodies into a dark corner.

Rufus strolled forward. "Take their uniforms. It might be helpful to disguise ourselves."

"Agreed," Leon said. He started stripping one of the dead men.

"I'm not changing," Vincent said. He found a position to stand watch and pointedly didn't look at anyone. Claire thought it was for the best – she was having serious flashbacks to her afternoon in the inn with Vincent.

Rufus looked at Cloud. Cloud looked at Rufus. Both clearly thought the other should disguise himself. "I think you should put it on, Sir," Claire said, dragging her thoughts from the gutter. "If they know who you are, they're more likely to expect the Turks to come. As much as possible we want them to think that we're on our own."

"Maybe you should put it on," Cloud said, eyes sparkling with hope. "Then Hojo wouldn't recognize you and –"

Leon, by this time was dressed, and came over. "Claire would look funny. This is a man's uniform, and she's too short." The uniform was blue, with a sailor look to it. It had a helmet, but Leon had apparently decided that after shooting someone in the head, wearing his face mask probably wasn't the most hygienic of ideas.

"Thanks," Claire said. She didn't add that she would probably not be able to stand the thought of wearing a dead man's uniform. And speaking of that, she felt a stab of anger at Hojo for hiring the men. For putting those two, relatively innocent men, in between himself and the ass whooping he so richly deserved.

"I'm not changing," Rufus said. He dusted his white coat, and flipped his fingers through his hair in an aristocratic motion.

For a few minutes no one moved, then Vincent opened the door and strolled through.

"Let's go," Cloud said. They left the remaining guard and uniform hidden in the shadows. It just wasn't worth the trouble of trying to force someone into it.

The Umbrella base didn't seem to be super-efficient on the inside. Apparently the majority of the guard was on the outside, protecting against assaults from various enemies who would be so stupid as to take the obvious route. The corridors were all plain, disinfected white, with the Umbrella logo here and there. Unlike most facilities, the walls weren't dripping with blood and the lights didn't flicker and give off sparks from exposed wires.

And after several corridors with no opposition, the party made its first major mistake of the day. They were strolling down a hallway when the telltale stomp of marching feet emerged. "Shift change," Rufus said, voice soft. "They'll be heading to the barracks."

"Fuck," Leon said. "We'll have to fight."

"Or hide," Vincent said. He twisted the nearest door handle, but it was locked. Without hesitation he started checking each door. The others followed suit.

They checked several doors, but each was locked. Then, suddenly, Cloud turned a handle and the door opened. Without hesitation, the group flooded into the room, closing the door behind them. They were barely in time. Claire let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. Outside, she could hear what sounded like young guards yapping about an upcoming wedding for one of the soldiers.

That made Claire's chest start to hurt. She hated the thought that she might have to fight and kill one of those cheerful men just because Hojo was an asshole.

Her own thoughts were interrupted by a collective gasp from everyone else in the room. And seeing as the men were all taller, they blocked her view of the new horror. She sniffed the air, expecting the stench of Tyrant, but not finding it.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't our big brother," a man's voice said.

"And the President of Shinra," another man said, voice deeper.

"And Vincent Valentine," a third man said.

Cloud drew his Buster sword, bracing it for combat. Vincent aimed his gun; Leon raising his at the same moment. "So much for a quiet strike," Rufus said. He stepped back, clearly not interested in battling the three men. Claire stepped in front of him, just to make sure that he would be protected.

And she got her first look at the men. Two of them were almost identical, with silvery hair the same exact shade as Sephiroth's and mako green eyes. They were both slender, dressed in black. The older of the two had his hair half-hiding his face. The third man was taller and more muscular, with short silver hair and a cocky grin. Claire knew all three of them. She felt a smile blossom on her face. "Kadaj, Loz, Yazoo," she said.

Kadaj gave her a dismissing look, which she dismissed.

"Who are you?" Yazoo demanded with a sneer, which she matched with a wider smile.

"Claire Redfield," she said, without hesitation. When they had first started talking, she was afraid that they were going to have to kill someone. Now she knew it wouldn't come to violence quite yet.

"Aren't you the girl Hojo wants?" Loz asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Forget about him for a second," Claire said. She started across the room toward them. "I'm your sister."

Loz seemed the most moved by her words. "I don't have a sister, do I?"

Claire was by now a scant three feet away. "Not a real one, but I'm your adopted sister."

"Adopted?" Yazoo asked. He drew his gun, pointing it towards, but not at, her. "What does she mean, Kadaj?"

"Yeah, what's she mean, Kadaj?" Loz demanded, a plaintive whine in his voice.

"Good question," Kadaj said. He aimed a short sword toward her. "What do you mean?"

"I adopted your brother and he adopted me. That makes us siblings."

All three men turned to look at Cloud. Vincent and Rufus also gave Cloud a weird look. Cloud gave Claire a weird look. "I don't know what she's talking about."

Claire, completely unperturbed, got closer to her new family members. She knew that maybe she should feel more concerned, but she _felt like they wouldn't hurt her._ And she was the type of girl who trusted her instincts.

"Cloud didn't adopt you," Kadaj proclaimed. "So you're not our sister."

Claire blinked. "I didn't know Cloud was your brother too." She looked back at him, wondering if he knew about the adoption and was just pretending he didn't. It would explain his over-protectiveness of her. He was channeling Chris . . .

"He's the only one we have," Loz said, cutting through her thoughts. "And he hates us."

"You're the ones who hate me," Cloud answered, voice soft.

"You're the one who's always standing in our way," Yazoo complained. "All we wanted to do was bring Mother back."

"All you wanted was to destroy –" Cloud started to say.

"Sephiroth," Claire interrupted. "I adopted your brother Sephiroth. And he adopted my brother Chris. And I adopted his brothers: Loz, Yazoo, and Kadaj." She spread her arms. "You guys!"

"Sephiroth!" everyone in the room hissed at the same time, mostly with disdain.

Claire felt a stab of irritation. "Yes, Sephiroth. Get over it."

Yazoo and Kadaj seemed more reserved, and from their expressions, they weren't getting over it anytime soon. Oddly, Cloud, Rufus, and Vincent looked the same way. Loz got over it fastest. "What's a sister do?"

Claire spread her arms. "Hugs?"

Loz, who suddenly reminded Claire of a very large teddy bear, glomped her. "I've never had a sister before."

"Well, I've had a big brother all my life, and I got to tell you, he's the greatest," Claire said. "But just so you know, a sister protects you from harm – even stuff you think won't harm you like slutty girls."

"I've never been on a date," Loz confessed.

Claire hugged him a bit tighter. "That's okay. You've got time. It's better to find the right girl first, you know."

Loz pulled back. "What do I got to do as your brother?"

"Nothing really," Claire said. "It's not like you have pre-set duties. It's more like, once you're a family, you stick together."

"Claire," Vincent said, hitting the cadence of her name just right to make pleasure sweep across her features.

She mouthed to Loz that she liked Vincent.

"You like him?" Kadaj asked. "Even though he's older than our big brother Sephiroth?"

Claire flushed pink. "Yeah." She lowered her eyes. "What's age got to do with it anyway?"

"He used to have a torch for Sephiroth's human mother," Yazoo said. "Isn't that a bit weird?"

"I used to think Chris's best friend in high school – a guy called Flint – was hot," Claire said with a shrug. "That doesn't mean anything now. Hakunah Matata and all that jazz."

"Hakunah what?" Loz asked.

"Hakunah Matata," Leon said. He put his gun away and crossed the room. "It means you have to put your past behind you and live in the moment." He extended his hand. "Leon S. Kennedy."

"He's a friend," Claire said.

"And you're our sister . . ." Kadaj said, shaking Leon's hand. "And you're going to protect us." He frowned, forehead furrowing. "Is that why you're here? To save us from Hojo?"

Claire bit her lip. "Actually, I didn't know you were here, but I'm glad I found you. You should get out of here."

The three silver-haired Sephiroth clones exchanged quick glances. "Why?"

"Because Hojo is planning on releasing his virus, and we're going to squish him," she said, motioning to the party. "And I don't want you to get hurt in the crossfire."

"You're more likely to get hurt," Kadaj said. "You said your name was Claire, right? Well, we just got orders to find you and bring you to Hojo immediately."

"Perfect," Claire said. She glanced at Leon. "Do you think it would work?"

"Better than wandering around aimlessly," Leon said. He'd been with her enough to know how her mind worked. "But do you want to put your new family in danger?" He eyed the three, silently wondering how Claire could consider these obviously dangerous people family, and wondering, just who in the name of Hades, this Sephiroth guy way. Her proclamation seemed to have a material effect on the others.

"Wait," Vincent said. "What are you thinking?"

"Wait," Cloud said at the same time, "When did you see Sephiroth for this adoption, and don't you know or care what he's doing?"

"Wait," Rufus said at the same time, "Does Sephiroth know that you work for the Turks?"

"Wait," Kadaj said, "You work for the Turks?"

"Wait," Loz said, "Would it be all right if I called you sis?"

"Wait," Yazoo said, "did you adopt Cloud too? And does _Chris_ know that we're his brothers?"

"Uhhhmmmm . . ." Claire said in response. "First, Chris doesn't know that I adopted you guys yet, but if he finds out, he'll be cool with that. He really is the best brother ever –"

"Why?" all three silver haired boys asked simultaneously.

"Well, because he'd never let anything bad happen to me," Claire said. "If I need him, he's always there. And I know he's not here right now, but if he was, he'd be sticking me in a broom closet and going to squish Hojo for me." She held up a hand, stalling further comment. "But since he's not here, I have to do it myself. So let me just answer all the questions. The second part to your question, Yazoo, is whether I adopted Cloud, and the answer is yes, but I didn't know who he was. Sephiroth said he was a black sheep and a bit of a hot mess." She gave Cloud an apologetic look.

She took a breath, glancing lovingly at Loz. "You can call me 'sis' if you want." He beamed back at her, apparently tickled pink. "As for whether Sephiroth knows I work for the Turks, the subject didn't really come up, but yes, I work for the Turks. Reno and Rude recruited me. Sorry for those of you who didn't know. And sorry Sir if you didn't want me to tell anyone, but I should point out that you did bring the subject up."

Vincent and Cloud, in particular, looked stunned. Rufus, oddly, seemed pleased with her.

"As for knowing what Sephiroth is doing . . . the truth is, he told me his goal was to destroy the Planet, but we talked about it and he decided not to."

Everyone was stunned. Claire honestly didn't see what the big deal was. Sephiroth was a good person, and all he needed was a little love. No one – Hojo and Wesker excepted – was beyond redemption in her mind.

"As for your question, Vincent," she said, turning to address him. "What I'm thinking is that I'll have Kadaj turn me over to Hojo. Once I'm in the room, I'll "regain" consciousness and give him a bullet or several. Then, since we'll probably be in his main labs, I'll destroy his research, and sneak out with my brothers." And she'd check for an anti-virus to the J-virus swimming through her body.

"It won't be that easy," Loz said. "A couple bullets would never be enough. It would get messy."

"And you're not getting anywhere near Hojo!" Cloud exclaimed. "I won't risk it. The last thing anyone needs is a reborn Sep –" He cut himself off abruptly. "Although, maybe you think that would be a good thing?"

"What do you mean?" Claire asked.

Forget what he means," Leon said. "I got a better plan."

"So let's hear it," Vincent said. He looked oddly restrained, and Claire wondered if he really had dated Sephiroth's human mother. And exactly what did Sephiroth's human mother mean? Did he have more than one?

Leon detailed his plan. Cloud was the only one strenuously against it. Everyone else agreed it was a good plan.

**Chapter eighteen**

The fight was short and brutal. And when it ended, only the clones were standing. Kadaj rotated his shoulder back, tendons popping. "Kennedy is going to have to teach me whatever that was . . ." he muttered. He'd attacked the former rookie cop with a straight thrust, and Leon had someone grabbed his arm and planted his ass through a solid oak table. The torque of the throw had done painful things to Kadaj's shoulder.

Loz was rubbing a rather large lump on the side of his face. "I can believe sis hit me with her gun," he muttered. "She doesn't look like she could move that fast or hit that hard."

Kadaj grunted in response. "Well, you were attacking the President, and I guess he's her boss. Just think, she'd probably be responding the same way to save you from something . . ." He shrugged his shoulder again, resisting the temptation to Cast a curing spell. They needed to look like hell. "Yazoo," he said, voice taking on a commanding snap. "Call Hojo. Tell him we have a pleasant surprise for him."

"Sure," Yazoo said, voice slurred. He had a split lip and a purple face thanks to first Vincent punching him in the nose and then Cloud whacking him across the face with the flat of his sword. He pulled out his phone.

"Forget that," Kadaj said. "You sound like shit." He glanced at Loz, who was crouched over Claire's prone form. "Loz, you call."

Loz sniffed. "Sure."

Hojo ran down the hall. Loz _had her. The Redfield girl. The one who was going to bring Sephiroth back in a helpless state. So he could harvest the child's organs to make the T-virus officially perfect._

Behind him a growing distance, Wesker strolled, aviator shades masking his beady red eyes. He felt a certain amount of disdain for the slimy Hojo. The poor, crazy scientist had no idea the true potential Claire offered. Wesker did. The girl had been exposed to the T-virus, the T-Veronica virus, the G-virus (only briefly), and Hojo's new J-virus. The various strands of virus, mixing and entwining inside her, beat back by an anti-virus every time made her blood the perfect thing. All he needed was a sample of her blood and he would be able to finally perfect a virus that would give him perfect control over the human race. And he'd use it on her first. And tell her to kill Chris Redfield.

Not that she would be successful. Mind-controlled puppets made for unimaginative soldiers. But her attempt would force Chris to kill her and that would make it all worthwhile. He couldn't wait until the elder Redfield showed up, grief-stricken at having to kill his own beloved sister. Wesker laughed at the thought.

Hojo paused in his mad dash, glancing back. "What's the matter with you?" he asked, voice a nasally whine.

"Just mentally savoring my impending victory," Wesker said demurely.

"Well, the girl is mine. We had a deal." Hojo turned away, making a mental note to have Kadaj kill Wesker. Something about the guy was just wrong. It was as if the blond man was scheming against him. Hojo wasn't going to tolerate that.

He yanked open the door to the officer's lounge and strolled in. What he saw made his eyes pop. Lying in a pool of his own blood was Cloud Strife. Kadaj's sword had pierced him through the back . . . And lying a few feet from the door, white coat speckled with blood, was the escaped Shinra president – the little upstart who had ruined everything with his stupid Mako cannon that had broken the shield on the Northern Crater. And Vincent Valentine – the jerk – was lying face-down, the back of his cape and clothes ripped open by a vicious slash that stretched from his shoulder to his hip. The wound oozed blood in a slow stream. And lying on the couch, surrounded by his puppets, was Claire Redfield. She looked a little worse for wear, but clearly wasn't dead and dying like the others.

Hojo clapped his hands. "Perfect. Cut off the heads of the others. And bring the Redfield girl to my lab." He turned to leave the room and seen Wesker coming. "Scratch that. I'd better just infect her now." He strolled across the room, stepping over Rufus's dead form. He passed Vincent, sidestepped Cloud, and reached for Claire.

And got shot. Between the eyes. At the same time, Loz imposed himself between Claire and Hojo, and punched him with his electric fist-thing. And Claire was lifted over the couch by Yazoo. And Rufus closed the door, locking it.

Vincent rolled to his feet and opened fire. Cloud sprang to his feet, tossing Kadaj his sword (which had been tucked between his arm). Hojo cast a healing spell. "What is going on here?" he demanded, only to be shot again.

And the real right was on. Hojo, sensing that he was hopelessly outnumbered and outmatched, kept trying to escape, but someone was shooting him constantly – nicely aimed shots that made his brain hurt. And Vincent was shooting him too. And his creations – Kadaj and Loz were viciously attacking. Rufus and Claire were shooting him too. From a distance, and both were being protected by Yazoo.

"Wait, wait, wait!" he hollered. But none of them listened. Instead, Leon pulled his Desert Eagle and started firing the more powerful shots, and Vincent broke out Death Penalty.

And in short order, Hojo was lying on the floor twitching. Cloud stepped over him and with a clean cut decapitated him. And then Leon left his sniper position and poured cooking oil over the body. "Light him up," he ordered.

And several people cast Firaga on the corpse, which they burned to a crisp. Then the door was sliced open, and several Tyrants strolled in. Simultaneously they raised their left hands. "S.T.A.R.S." they groaned.

"No, not S.T.A.R.S.," Wesker said. "Something else's and a Kennedy and a Claire."

The Tyrants, without a change in expression on their ugly, mutated faces, raised their hands again. "Something else's and a Kennedy and a Claire," they groaned.

Wesker did a small, exasperated headroll. "Kill them all, except Claire. Bring her to me."

The Tyrants responded by attacking. By some freak of nature, there was one Tyrant for every person in the room. They each picked a target and attacked. And the Tyrants were much, much tougher than Hojo.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

Vincent responded instantly to the new threat. He swept Claire off her feet and leapt to the catwalk that Leon had been shooting from. Two Tyrants leapt onto the railing after them. The combined weight made the rail groan. Vincent, ever calm, kicked a hole in the wall. A wash of brilliant sunlight penetrated the suddenly smelly room. Vincent leapt out, somehow bouncing onto the roof.

Then he set Claire down. "You should be safe here," he said.

Claire pulled him toward her. "Clearly you've never fought a Tyrant before." In time with her words, one of the Tyrants sliced a hole through the roof and climbed up. (Claire figured that maybe it was standing on the other's head, but discarded the thought when the second one climbed over the side of the roof.)

"Great," Vincent muttered. He shot the Tyrant between the eyes, but it kept coming.

"Aim for its heart," Claire ordered, matching actions with words. Several bullets from the Griffin slammed into the vicinity of the shoulder mass, but the Tyrant moved too fast for her to get more than a couple solid hits. It was rushing forward with all the force of a train, claws dragging, ripping up the titles of the roof.

The roof was actually a slanted, almost ancient university style. It was made of blue, stone shingles with a gentle slope. And here and there, towers extended with steeples. Claire readied herself to dodge, but before the perfect moment came, Vincent was pulling her away.

"Not yet," she yelped. The Tyrant turned with him, and Claire felt the skin on her arm start to tingle. It was a clean cut - fast. And for a second the wound didn't know it was suppose to bleed. Then her arm gave a spasm, and blood gushed from three neat slices.

Claire switched her gun, eyes showing too much white, breath in sudden quick gasps. She peeled away from Vincent, but the Tyrant kept after him. Switching her gun, to her left arm, she started firing, but her aim was junk. Her vision was swimming.

She heard the roar of another Tyrant behind her. Her Tyrant. The one under orders to bring her to Wesker. She waited for it, watched it barreling toward her. At the last second, point blank range, she fired a single shot into its pulsing heart. At the same time, she dodged left . . .

And into the hole the first one had ripped through the roof.

She fell, holstering her gun, clutching her bleeding arm, and screaming. She landed on the unstable catwalk. Her breath escaped in a sharp whoosh. And for a second she lay still, hyperventilating. Then the light was blocked as the Tyrant jumped through the hole.

Claire squeaked and rolled out of the way. This time her fall was much softer. She landed on the sofa, and had a quick second to survey the scene. The party had scattered for the most part. There was no sign of Leon or Rufus . . . Cloud was locked in combat with both Wesker and a Tyrant – it looked like they had somehow destroyed a wall, and they were in the adjacent room. And she didn't see her new brothers anywhere. Then she looked up and saw the Tyrant, leaping toward her, claws extended.

She rolled off the couch, planning her attack. She was going to land crouched, sprint to Cloud, shooting his unsuspecting Tyrant as she went. If she could kill his, then he'd have a better shot against Wesker and she would –

But her plans were for nothing because apparently one of the Tyrants had made a hole on the floor by the couch too. So instead of her brilliant plan, she fell another story.

"Dammit!" she screamed, hitting her injured arm on the way through the hole. She landed in a laboratory of some sort. And spotted Rufus, panting hard, a Tyrant looming over him, claws poised for the final strike. She pulled the Griffin and opened fire, sending salvo after salvo into the creature's back. That would never kill it, but she had a job to protect her boss. Tseng's orders. She ran forward, shooting and the Tyrant turned to see what new irritant was coming its way. "Aim for its heart on its shoulder!" Claire shrieked. Then saw too many claws coming straight at her. She tried to slow her charge, twist out of the way, but instead she tripped over scattered equipment. Her ankle gave a _see-you-later _pulse of pain, and she went down. But not fast enough. Claws clipped her shoulder, making a new pain burn. She cried out.

And then the Tyrant in front of her was on fire. It wheeled back to Rufus, but the President had moved.

He grabbed Claire, hauling her to her feet and Casting Cure on her. The green light made her feel a tad bit better. Actually, it made her feel good enough to switch the Griffin back to her primary hand. She fired at the burning Tyrant, nailing a couple good shots through its heart. It roared, death breath making her want to vomit. She reminded herself that there were better things to do.

Together with Rufus, they fled the lab. In the hall, a slew of normal soldiers took up a firing position.

Claire ran straight toward them, and Rufus followed. They blasted past the troops before they could get off a single shot. Then the Tyrants came, and Claire heard the soldiers screaming – opening fire. She slowed, turned, went back. Rufus didn't notice at first and when he did, he whipped around and followed.

She was screaming at the troops to aim for the heart, but none of them listened. So Claire positioned herself and started firing, landing critical shot after critical shot on one of the Tyrants. It finally fell, tripping the other. And neither moved.

"Thanks," one of the surviving soldiers said. He handed her an X-potion for her efforts and fled through a side door.

"What the fuck is this?" Claire muttered, getting ready to toss it aside.

Rufus caught her hand. "It's a potion, obviously." He tossed it over her head, watching with surprise the surprise on her face as the bone-deep gashed on her arm turned into skin deep slashes and the puncture through her shoulder turned into nothing more than a narrow puncture with the blood clotting rather than gushing.

"You didn't know what a potion was?" he asked.

"I didn't realize what it did," she said. "I thought it was like Advil . . ."

"Advil?"

They tripped Tyrant roared, ending the conversation. Claire watched it get to its feet. She took careful aim. "Burn it when I start shooting, Sir," she said. Her finger tightened around the trigger. And the gun gave a quiet click, indicating it was empty.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

Rufus and Claire fell back, forced to abandon a clean kill on the downed Tyrant because the other Tyrant was certainly not down. And Claire discovered she was out of bullets. Rufus lent her his gun, but she quickly discovered that the featherlight bullets were useless against the Tyrant. "Vincent's got more ammo," she muttered. "And he's on the roof."

So the two raced up the closest stairs. At the top, was a typical, white hallway with doors here and there. Claire tried the first door, but it was locked. So she shot the handle – something she'd always been tempted to do – and kicked the door open. Inside was paydirt. Well, it was an armory full of swords Claire didn't have time to master, guns that looked as flimsy as Rufus's, and what looked like lovely grenades and a rocket launcher.

Claire launched herself at the weapons. She grabbed the rocket launcher as the Tyrant came through the door. But she didn't fire. "Stay close, Sir," she ordered Rufus. "I got this one."

"Sure," Rufus muttered under his breath.

Claire backed up until they were against the wall. The Tyrant stood in the doorway, silently watching.

"What's it waiting for?" Rufus asked.

"Not sure," Claire confessed. Then a second Tyrant stepped into view. The second one was worse for wear. It was, probably, the same one that Claire had downed in the hallway with the fallen soldiers. The wounds were already starting to heal. "Peachy," she muttered. That makes this harder."

She fired a rocket at the injured one, blasting it back through the doorway with a wash of flames. Simultaneously, the other one attacked. Claire waited until it was inches away, then dodged left, pushing Rufus away. The Tyrant hit the wall, causing it to crack and groan.

Without hesitation, Claire ran to the other side of the room, spun and aimed the rocket launcher at the Tyrant. It turned, roaring its rage. And Claire pulled the trigger, launching her second rocket straight at its weak spot. The blast smashed through the Tyrant blasting a hole in the wall, and causing it to stagger. Claire fired again, and by a freak coincidence, Rufus cast Graviga. The combination sent the Tyrant sailing outside into the sunlight. It hit the reinforced wall keeping intruders out, and left a nasty, blood and guts smear on the steel. Pieces of it fell to the ground, but nothing that would allow it to reassemble.

"Yes!" Claire shouted, pumping her fist in the air. She dropped the rocket launcher, and started loading up on weapons. "I feel like Leon," she confessed to Rufus as she strapped a second belt of grenades around her waist.

"I feel like you might have what it takes to be a Turk after all," Rufus said.

Claire grinned at him. "Thanks Sir." She tossed him his gun, and then handed him a stronger weapon. "Use this one on any Tyrants we come across."

Rufus rolled his blue eyes. "Because, of course, we're going after them."

"No," Claire said. "We're going to the roof."

"For Vincent?"

"Helicopter pad," Claire said. "You're leaving; it's not safe here."

Rufus laughed. "What did Tseng tell you to make you so protective?"

"You are my responsibility," she said. "And I don't want you injured."

"Fine," he said. "Let's go. But first . . ." He raised his hand and repeatedly Cast Cure on Claire until her injuries were fully healed. "Now let's see how to get to the helicopter pad."

On the way to the helicopter, Claire encountered the remains of a Tyrant that looked like it might have lost a fist fight. It's already normal head was beat to a pulp and it looked like someone had torn its still-beating heart from its chest and stomped on it repeatedly. A few feet later, she found Loz, unconscious from his Herculean efforts. He didn't look like he'd gotten infected, but she gave him a once over all the same.

"If I order you to leave him?" Rufus asked, as Claire slapped Loz awake.

"I couldn't, Sir," she said, eyes widening. "He's family."

At that second, Loz opened his eyes. "Sis," he muttered, sounding quite pleased. He caught her into a powerful, bone-crushing hug. And Claire remembered his bloody hands, and the globs of wet tyrant flesh on his chest. But it was too late, so she endured the hug and promised herself a long, long bath when all was said and done.

Loz helped her to her feet. "That thing was tough," he said. "But I got the best of it." He looked around, spotting Rufus and throwing him a casual salute. "So, where's everyone else?"

"Still fighting," Claire said. "We're going to the roof. You coming?"

He shook his head. "Naw, I gotta help Kadaj and Yazoo."

Claire nodded. "Watch yourself."

His lips twisted in a cocky grin. "Sure thing, sis." He took off down the hall.

Claire hesitated a second. "Think you could burn it a bit?" she asked Rufus, motioning toward the dead Tyrant.

Rufus responded by toasting it, and then they continued toward the roof.

There were three helicopters on the roof. "You can fly one of these, right?" Claire said to Rufus.

He bushed his hair away from his face. "Of course."

"All right . . . take that one," she said, pointing at the smallest one. "Take it to the Eastern Coast. Leon has a sub on the beach." She gave him a small smile. "Sorry I got distracted from protecting you in the beginning."

"Distracted?" Rufus said, raising an eyebrow. "It was more like Valentine kidnapped you to safety. Although judging by how you looked, he didn't get you to safety fast enough."

"Right," Claire said.

Rufus got into the helicopter, and fired it up. Before he took off, Claire remembered his phone. She pulled it out of her bra, tossing it to him. "Let Tseng know what's going on," she hollered, and then turned away. And found herself surrounded by zombies in lab coats. Apparently something had very recently gone wrong. She shot the zombies, hating the wasted shots, and then hurried back inside. She made it down the stairs and into the hallway where she'd encountered Loz, then heard Leon swearing loudly from the floor below. She hurried down the hall until she came to a hole. Apparently these were floor-and-ceiling destroying Tyrants. She peaked through, spotting Leon against the wall, blood staining his face. Rather than jump through another hole, she detached a belt of grenades and threw them toward him.

Leon grabbed them reflexively. "Claire?"

"In the flesh," she called back. "Do you need ammo?"

"Yeah . . ."

She unhooked some of her ammo and tossed it to him. "Where's your Tyrant?"

"I decapitated it after I ran out of ammo," he said, peering up at her. "Where's yours?"

"Rocket Launcher."

"Nice."

Claire shrugged. "I actually got two that way . . ."

"Very nice," Leon said. "But we seem to have an outbreak going on here."

"I noticed," Claire said. "I sent the President away, and I'm going to the main labs – if I can find them – to see if there's an antivirus. Just in case someone gets bitten."

Leon nodded. "Good idea."

"What about you?"

"I'm going to the dungeon level," Leon said. "I heard some of the guards talking about prisoners. I figure a rescue op is in order."

Claire nodded. "I guess we're going our separate ways then."

Leon blinked. "Separate?" His lips twisted into a small smile. "Yeah, I guess we're just not meant to be."

Claire tilted her head to the side, but Leon waived her off. "Be safe, Claire. I gotta run." He took off, disappearing from view. Claire pulled back from the hole, wondering at the expression on his face. It sounded like he was saying good-bye forever.

Or like he was giving up on her . . . but he'd never been invested in her, had he? And even if he had, why the change? She started to swing through the hole and then froze. Leon could handle himself. He had important work to do, and so did she. She stood up, shooting a zombie shuffling toward her in the forehead. She needed the anti-virus from the labs.

Vincent killed his Tyrant most efficiently. He transformed into Chaos, and hit the stupid-Claire-injuring thing so hard that it flew over the reinforced-steel wall and into the minefield outside. It landed and the resulting explosions finished it off. To be sure, Vincent flew to the wall, and shot the remains until they stopped twitching. Then he went back inside, searching for Claire.

Part of him was afraid it would be a very short search. He expected to go through the hole and find her, body lying at a disjointed angle, face expressionless. Instead he found a dead Tyrant in the adjoining room, a broken pair of sunglasses, and Cloud's buster sword in two pieces. There was no sign of Cloud.

There was also a hole in the floor, with a bit of red cloth from Claire's pants. Vincent dropped through the hole into a laboratory of some sort. He followed the signs of battle through the wall, and spotted several dead soldiers wandering around.

He dispatched of them with a series of headshots. Then followed Claire's bloody footprints until he heard sounds of an ongoing fight. He opened a door and spotted Yazoo, pinned to the wall by a Tyrant.

Vincent lifted his gun, face expressionless and shot the thing in the head. It spun, flinging the impaled Yazoo from its claws. Vincent sidestepped the Sephiroth clone and fired three shots (and nine bullets) into the Tyrants heart. It staggered, then started charging again. Vincent nimbly darted out of the way, flipping over the beast and then standing, waiting for it to turn. When it did, he unloaded the rest of the Cerberus's clip into the thing. It staggered again, and this time pitched forward. It hit the ground and twitched. Vincent turned away.

"It's not dead," Yazoo wheezed. He had pulled himself to a sitting position and was casting Cure on himself repeatedly.

Vincent glanced back at it without turning his head. "Not yet," he agreed. He calmly reloaded his gun. "Have you seen Claire?"

"Sis?"

"She's not your sister," Vincent said.

"Sure she is," Yazoo said. "Sephiroth said so, and that's that." He coughed, and dragged himself to his feet. "Besides, it'll be nice to have a female in the family. I'll bet she doesn't get upset if I cry."

"As a man you should get upset if you cry," Vincent said idly. The Tyrant rolled over and roared. Vincent pumped it full of lead once again, leaving a gaping hole where the majority of its vital organs were. "And you haven't told me if you know where Claire is."

Yazoo started casting Fire on the Tyrant. The smell of burned and rotten flesh permeated the air. "You took her through the roof. That's the last place I saw her."

The door opened, and Loz ambled through. "Hey, Yazoo, couldn't handle it on your own?" he teased. "Sis even took a couple down by herself."

"Alone?" Yazoo said. "She must be as strong as our older brothers."

Vincent personally didn't think Claire was as strong as Cloud and Sephiroth, but he did think she was tenacious. If she'd taken down two Tyrants it was because she was too stubborn to quit.

"Well," Loz said, rubbing his bloody face. "She did have the Shinra President with her. They were heading to the roof."

Vincent nodded and started through the door.

"Hey, it's not dead yet," Yazoo called after him.

"Finish it yourselves."

He rounded a corner – shot another zombie and spotted Kadaj. "Your brothers are just down the hall," he said.

"I'm looking for my sister," Kadaj said. "Hojo isn't quite as dead as we thought. Apparently the idiot cloned himself." He pulled a hand away from his side, revealing a gaping wound. "I don't suppose you have a potion I could borrow?"

Vincent reluctantly gave up one of his x-potions. "Are you sure it was Hojo?"

"Sure as a Touch Me's irritating," Kadaj muttered. "You say the boys are just down the hall?"

Vincent nodded, already walking past the clone.

"Right, well, maybe I'll get them first. Then we can find Sis together."

"Her name is Claire," Vincent said, fighting off irritation. And fear. Claire couldn't get touched by Hojo. If she did, Sephiroth would come back and he'd have to do something . . . he didn't know what. But he did know that Claire would protect Sephiroth forever if he was her child. Just the thought lent his feet wings and he hurried down the hallway. Rounding the corner, a gun was thrust into his face, then retracted.

"How's it going fang-face?" Leon asked. "You're lucky I recognized you."

Vincent untransformed from Chaos to his normal form. "How did you know that I wasn't just an _Umbrella monster?_"

"The look in your eyes," Leon said. He stepped into an elevator. "I'm going to the dungeon to rescue the princess, you coming?"

"Princess?"

"Prisoners," Leon said.

"No," Vincent said. "Unless Claire is down there."

Leon shook his head, stopping the doors. "We split up."

"You left her?"

Leon nodded. "Yeah, she's got to find the anti-virus. And I got to find the prisoners. So we separated."

"Where's the anti-virus?"

"Labs."

"And where are –"

"Don't know," Leon said. "If you find her . . ." Whatever he was going to say was cut off as the doors closed.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-one**

Sometimes things happen all at once, and no matter how fast you travel and how passionately you pray, you just can't make things right. Vincent found the labs, and as he entered, he saw that this is where the main fight had been.

Cloud, looking slightly worse-for-wear, was lying across a table. Hojo was lunging toward Claire, inches away, and Wesker was bringing swinging an ax toward Cloud's head.

And Vincent was too far away to do anything. He fired at Hojo, each bullet striking the mad scientist in the back and head. But the motion just pushed him toward Claire faster.

Then there was a swirl of light between Claire and Hojo – maybe caused by skin-to-skin contact. And from the swirl, a man stepped. Wesker froze in mid-strike. "Chris," he said, voice oily. "How did you get here?"

Chris responded by punching Hojo in the face, sending him stumbling backward. "Wesker," he said, voice quite calm. "You didn't think I was going to let you get away with it."

"Whatever do you mean?"

Chris drew his gun, making a small eye roll. Behind him the swirling light vanished. There was no sign of Claire anymore.

Vincent's heart skipped a beat. "Claire?" he called, voice cracking. Inside, he could feel his control of chaos slipping. He felt the transformation come hard and fast, wings ripping from his back, fingers sharpening into claws. Pure rage enveloped him, and he surveyed the battle for a split second.

Cloud had recovered from his stunned moment, and was battling side-by-side with Chris. And Hojo was peeling his ass from the floor.

Vincent launched himself at Hojo, killing this version in mere seconds. Then he launched himself toward Wesker.

"Hello," Wesker said, his field of vision suddenly full of an angry Chaos. "What are you?"

Vincent responded by killing him.

Then he wheeled, locking murderous eyes on the only two people still in the room. "Where's Claire?" he snarled, Death Penalty appearing in his hands.

"Calm down, Vincent," Cloud said.

Chris, still surprised by the sudden defeat of his arch-nemesis didn't respond.

Vincent aimed the gun and pulled the trigger, and suddenly Claire was in his view, hugging Chris, and between his bullet and his target.

Vincent deflated, gun falling from fingers. Claire had no protection against Death bullets. She was –

Chris was twisting, trying to get her out of the way. Cloud was moving, trying to get in the way. And between the bullet and Claire, a tall, single-winged man with long, flowing silver hair and a narrow sword appeared. He deflected the bullet into the ceiling. A cocky grin spreading across his face.

"That's my sister you tried to kill Valentine," he said.

"I was aiming –" Vincent said, throat dry. He'd never been so happy to see Sephiroth before.

"At my brother," Sephiroth said. "I know."

"At him . . ." Vincent said, pointing at Chris.

"Yeah, he's my brother," Sephiroth said. He shot a quick grin at Chris. "How's it going?"

Chris cocked his head to the side. Claire was still clinging to him, but hearing Sephiroth's voice, she partially let go. "Chris, this is Sephiroth. I adopted him."

"Isn't he a bit big for adoption?"

"Feh," Claire said. "He's just perfect."

Chris nodded, extending a hand. "Well, welcome to the family . . ."

And, thankfully for Cloud and Vincent, Chris didn't sound quite as enthusiastic about the adoption as the clones and Claire were.

Vincent didn't have too much energy left for mulling that over though. He sank down, raising his hand. "I could have killed you . . ." he murmured. "I thought you were dead."

Claire let go of Chris, and approached him. She offered her hand. "It happens," she said. "Forget it. We're all fine and the bad guys are toast."

"Dead toast," Sephiroth said. He grinned at Cloud. "How's it going?"

"S-sephiroth?" Cloud stammered. "You really adopted her?"

"Yep." He smiled. "And I've decided to be her Guardian Angel. After all, I have wings."

"You have_ a wing._"

Sephiroth shrugged. "Better than no wings, like some people." He gave Cloud a pointed look.

Cloud only shook his head. "Aren't you dead?"

"Yes, but only because you killed me three times," he said. "But my Jenova cells are a bit more resilient than you would think."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning you're going to have to kill me nine times," he said. "Because, like a cat, I get lucky." He made his sword disappear. "But seriously, I'm only here like I've been here since you destroyed my body. As a manifestation of self imposed upon the body of a clone."

"Kadaj?"

"Some other clone," Sephiroth said. "And I won't be able to maintain this form for much longer."

"So you'll die on your own?"

Claire tore herself away from the gentle embrace she'd enfolded Vincent in. "What?"

Sephiroth met her eyes. "Not like that, Claire. You're going to be my big sister." In time with his words, he shrank to child-size. Approximately a child of eight years. "The problem with a clone body is that they can't take the energy I put into them. As a result, they burn out."

"So you'll put less energy into it," Chris said. "By assuming a younger form."

"Close, Chris," he said. "It's more like this clone is only in a child's stage of life. So I'll assume that. And . . . I won't be able to stress the body to the limit like I am accustomed."

"Better to be alive than all powerful," Claire said. She crossed the room and hugged him. "Welcome to the family again."

"It's been a while since I had a little Redfield to pick on," Chris said. He was a sharp individual and quickly determined that Claire and Vincent needed a few moments alone. Apparently while he'd been on Earth and she'd been here (wherever that was) she'd had some sort of relationship develop.

"Pick on?" Sephiroth said, sounding alarmed. "Claire said you were the greatest."

"Did she now?" Chris asked. "She's too kind." He ruffled Sephiroth's hair. "Let's go."

"Where?" Cloud asked. He shook his head. "And hold on, what's going on anyway? Who are you? How did you get here? What makes you think that I'm going to let you take Sephiroth away from here? And -"

Chris held up his hand. "First, any of you hear that blaring, building will explode shortly alarm?"

Judging from the expressions on their faces, they hadn't quite heard the sound. Apparently the other shocks were too distracting. Chris picked Sephiroth up. "So, we're all agreed that leaving is a good idea?"

"Yeah," Cloud said. "But Sephiroth –"

"Like it or not, Claire adopted him," Chris said. "She's a good judge of character and he's 'Sephiroth Redfield' now, which makes him my responsibility. Come if you want. But if you try and stop me from getting him the hell out of here, you'll find yourself in an early grave."

Sephiroth grinned. "You are the coolest."

Claire and Vincent stood up. "There's a few helicopters on the roof," she said. "We should head there." She grinned at Sephiroth, taking Vincent's hand at the same time.

On the roof there was something of a crowd gathering. Yazoo, Loz, and Kadaj were together. And Leon was there, trying to keep Tifa and Jill from fighting the clones. Apparently Tifa and Jill had been captured by the Umbrella soldiers before breaking into the base.

"No time for this," Chris said. He tossed Sephiroth into a helicopter. "Strap in, kid."

"I'm not really a kid, you know," Sephiroth said. He stuck his head out. "Hey, Kadaj, Yazoo, Loz . . . this is guy is Chris, Claire's other brother. And he's getting us the hell out of here. Hurry up."

The three exchanged looks and hurried over to the helicopter. Chris gave Claire a look that clearly said _I leave you alone for a few months and you start adopting the weirdest looking strays. What the hell is wrong with you?_

Claire shrugged. And with the extended Redfield family, plus Jill, the helicopter was full.

The others headed for the remaining copter. Tifa got in the pilot's seat and started firing up the engines. Cloud made to get in the seat beside her, but Leon beat him too it, so he got in the back instead. Then he glanced for Claire and Vincent, and they got in too. And altogether, they took off, leaving the base in a ball of flames.

**Author's Note:** This is almost done. One or two more chapters. Review please - it always makes my day.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-two**

At the beach, it didn't take long for everyone to disperse. But not without a little chaos first. The Turks had made it to the shore at about the same time that Rufus had landed. And while they were flying back to the base, the damn thing had exploded, so they returned to the beach. There, all three helicopters landed, and the crowd emerged.

Rufus ordered his Turks to stand down from attacking Kadaj and his gang. "They're Claire's brothers," he said, pointedly, watching for Reno's expression. As expected, the redhead was flabbergasted.

Then Sephiroth and Chris and Jill emerged. Chris, explaining, that he'd tracked down exactly what happened to the crew and finding a way to get transported to the Planet so he could protect his sister. He kept Sephiroth close at his side, determined to protect the child from any attackers (especially Cloud).

Leon explained that he'd found the others in the basement, and he got slapped by Tifa for his abduction of the sub and chocobo. Judging by the look on his face, Claire decided that what Leon liked best in a relationship was being abused. Sad, but true.

She broke away from Vincent and gave him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. Then Rufus caught her attention, and officially introduced her to Tseng. He was, she decided, an imposing man, with a stern face. But he told her that she'd done a fine job and told her that he'd have to get her a suit. The Turks uniform of choice was a dark blue suit, and he didn't see any reason why she should be denied the honor.

Which reminded Claire that everyone had to burn their clothes and sanitize themselves. There was a decent amount of grumbling at the prospect. But Chris shed his shirt, making Elena gape like a fish. And Leon stripped out of the borrowed uniform and ditched his jacket, which had gotten a bit of blood on it. The rest of his clothes had been spared.

Tseng ordered Reno to give Claire his shirt and jacket so that she could strip, but Jill saved him from the embarrassment of barring his chest after Chris's impressive display. She went into the sub and emerged with a bag of spare clothes. When the former thief had left, she'd made sure to bring back-up clothes.

So Claire ordered the boys to look away, and stripped out of the Jasmine outfit. Tifa kindly cast Water, and she scrubbed the blood from her body as best as she was able. Then she put on her old and comfortable jeans and midriff top.

It was easy enough to strip the clones. With their new brother already bare chested and their first ever sister changed, they ditched their clothes faster than the more modest girls could look away.

Jill materialized some clothes for them. Kadaj and Yazoo fit the clothes easily, but Loz didn't really fit any of the shirts. He didn't seem to mind being bare-chested though. Cloud and Vincent seemed most reluctant to strip, but eventually Cloud capitulated with the help of some taunts from Sephiroth. He left his purple clothes and put on a pair of leather pants that Jill thoughtfully had saved for him. They hugged his hips nicely, and left little to the imagination.

Vincent flat out refused to change while anyone was present, so Claire volunteered to stay with him and burn the clothes. Then they would walk to the Temple of the Ancients and pick up the chocobos and meet the others on the main-land.

Chris gave her a quick hug, then pulled her aside for a brief conversation about his new brothers. Claire apologized, and explained what and how it had happened. Chris, shaking his head, promised that he would meet her in Edge. "Don't take too long," he added. "I'm going to need your help adjusting."

"I'll be there in a snap," she said. She then hugged each of her new brothers, promising them that she would see them soon, and asking them to keep an eye on Chris for her until she got to Edge. Then, promises secure, she offered a hand to Cloud.

His lips quirked into a smile. "It's been interesting," he said.

"Sorry about your bike," Claire offered. "And sorry if I adopted your brothers-who-you-don't-get-along with."

"I guess I'll get over it," he said. He gave her a brief hug. "Be good to Vincent. He really cares about you." He headed toward the sub and then paused. "And bring my chocobo back to me in one piece, okay?"

"Sure thing."

Her good-bye with the Turks was a bit more formal – with less hugs and apologies. Tseng told her that she had earned the week off. And he introduced her to Elena (who wanted to know if Chris was single). Claire honestly told her that he was, but said she'd reserve judgment on whether he would be able to date Elena. Of course, the blonde didn't know what that meant, but Rufus had a pretty good idea what she meant.

"Elena's not a slut," he assured her. Then he gave her her own spiffy, Turks-issued phone and ID. Tseng promised to call her and let her know where HQ was when the time was right. Then the lot of them piled onto the Tiny Bronco and took off before Cloud realized they were taking his ride.

Her good-bye with Leon was quick and only slightly bitter-sweet. She knew now, and it seemed like he did too, that they would never be together. She still loved him, admired him, and even wanted him, but it wasn't with the same rush and hypnotic allure that set her soul on fire when she was near Vincent.

And after a while, they were gone, and the two were alone on the beach. "Gonna strip now?" Claire asked.

"I've had this since I first went to sleep in Nibelhiem," he said.

"About time you burned it then," Claire said. "You can always get a new one."

He snorted, but obliged her by stripping and dropping the closes into the pile. Then he lit it all on fire. His pale skin was brilliant in the sunlight; it reminded Claire of the vampire Edward's skin in _Twilight._ Only more real and less obviously computer-animated.

She walked up to him, resting her hand on his back. "You angry with me?"

He stiffened. "Angry?"

"That I ditched you? And then ignored you?"

Vincent turned, catching her in a gentle embrace. He locked eyes with her. "I could never be angry with you Claire. I was . . . afraid when I lost you that I would never see you again. And then I was . . . jealous when I saw you were with him."

"Rufus?"

He shook his head. "No, I could see there was nothing there. But Kennedy . . ."

"Leon was my first serious crush," Claire said. "And if I hadn't met you, I'd still love him more than any other man I've ever met."

"Even Chris?"

"Ha, ha," Claire said, slugging him lightly. "Everyone says that who knows me and my brother. But I don't love Chris like I love you." She froze. She'd never meant to say the L-word to Vincent. It was too risky. And her heart wasn't ready to hear him talk about Lucretcia.

"I love you," Vincent said, voice odd. She thought for a second that he was merely repeating what she'd said. Then he said it again, this time while moving to kiss her. His lips were cool against hers. But the kiss deepened, passion igniting inside her.

He slowly stripped her, moving her body down to the warm sand. And they made love on the beach. Any monsters that might have attacked them stayed away – maybe fearing the retaliation of the star-struck lovers. Or maybe just cautious considering the recent number of beach invaders.

Claire didn't care which it was. She didn't actually think of them anyway. Every fiber of her being was lost in the lure of Vincent's body. And one way or another, she knew that she was never going back to Earth. Her home was here now. Her family was here now. And her future was going to be a good one.

~The End~


End file.
